


could i rest my faith in there?

by strictlybecca



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Noah Shoots A Gun, badassery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-26 12:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strictlybecca/pseuds/strictlybecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Noah Mayer, bodyguard of the elite, is hired to ensure one Luciano Grimaldi survives his trip to Malta intact. The falling is easy. It's the getting back up that seems to be the issue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	could i rest my faith in there?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the annual Nuke Big Bang in 2010 at the [nukebigbang](http://nukebigbang.livejournal.com) livejournal comm. [Illustrated](http://aoleander.livejournal.com/478.html) by the incredible Allegra. Fanmix [here](http://roo-fic.livejournal.com/6064.html).

“Thin Man, this is Red Wing. Perimeter is secure, you are free to move.”

The hallway was lit poorly, the light more dramatic than useful, but Noah found it more than adequate to judge the distance between the ambassador and the target door. Noah stood, settling his shoulders, silently comforted by the weight of the gun against his side.

“Sir, if you would come with me.” It wasn’t a request, but Noah’s tone was polite enough that the older man, graying at the temples, merely followed as Noah led him out into the hallway.

“You look awfully young,” the ambassador commented, looking ultimately unconcerned.

“Yessir,” Noah answered automatically, his hand hovering over the telltale bulge in his jacket. “If I could have silence sir…” he trailed off meaningfully.

“Are you sure you’re experienced enough for something like this?”

Even as Noah’s eyes darted to every door in the hall, visually assuring himself constantly of the ambassador’s safety, he felt himself imagining an Alternate Noah Mayer who instead of nodding in a non-committal fashion, whirled on this man and explained pointedly that he’d led missions like this since age sixteen, that he was proficient in more firearms than this man had ever heard of and an expert in four types of hand to hand combat.

In his imagination, the ambassador lost his constant smug grin and Noah smiled triumphantly. But he didn’t. Because that was Alternate Noah.

This was him. This was his job.

They continued down the corridor in silence –  _finally_  – until they reached the door at the very end of the hallway. “Thin Man to Red Wing, the client has reached end of sector one, confirmation on sector two?”

The reply was instantaneous. “Confirmed. One bellhop coming through, visually screened and he’s safe. Perimeter is still secure.”

Noah nodded even though Jeff couldn’t see him and replied, “Affirmative. Client is a go.”

Two steps into the next hallway and something prickled at Noah’s nerves. Something was wrong; the bellhop was –  _pulling a gun_. Noah shoved the ambassador behind him even as he drew his gun and fired. He squeezed off two rounds before manhandling the ambassador back into their last vacated corridor. He then distantly noted someone shouting in his ear. “Shots fired, there were shots fired! Thin Man, report!”

“Bellhop was packing,” Noah intoned calmly. “Two shots fired. Subject is now neutralized. Client’s position is now compromised, reverting to Delta, confirm?”

“Affirmative. Thin Man is on the move.”

Noah soundlessly and effortlessly guided the ambassador into one of the countless doors they’d passed originally, down through an empty laundry, two boiler rooms and a meat storage locker. Noah had long ago memorized this and four other routes to safety, in case the original plan could not be executed. When they appeared before the boardroom, their original destination, Noah felt no satisfaction. A job well done sure, but one bellhop dead, no more than seventeen if he’d been a day, one corrupt ambassador still alive and the safety of one behind doors government meeting assured.

“I didn’t appreciate the rush,” the ambassador said carelessly as he was escorted inside the meeting room. Noah watched the heavy oak door swing silently closed behind him, wondering when the hollow feeling in his chest had become the norm rather than the exception. 

Screw you, replied Alternate Noah.

“Yessir,” replied Thin Man to the empty hallway. “Of course sir.”

-

“The boss says he wants to see you, Mayer,” Jeff said, ducking his head into what Noah called his bedroom, but was little more than a box with a door. Noah made a face in his head, keeping his features impassive. A talk with his father inevitably meant more criticism or another job. Noah was interested in hearing neither. 

But apparently he didn’t do very well with hiding his feelings, because Jeff smirked. “I’m sure the boss won’t tear you a new one this time. It’s only thanks to you that the last whole mission didn’t get totally fubared.” Noah gave Jeff a tight, insincere smile that was barely more than a pursing of the lips. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate the effort, but it really meant fuckall when it came to his father.

“Thanks,” Noah bit out, standing and brushing by Jeff, rather than hanging around to chat some more. He didn’t dare be late for a meeting with his father and plus he was never really sure of what to say to people. He wasn’t very good at small talk and other than that, all anyone around here usually talked about was the job. He could talk shop with the best of ‘em, but the problem was that Noah was the best. And unfortunately, being the best meant not many of the other men appreciated being shown up on missions by some young asshole who just happened to be the boss’ son.

Which meant not many of them went out of their way to talk to him. So Noah chose instead not to talk to  _them_ , which meant he was wholly unprepared when someone like Jeff came along and tried to chat normally with him.  _What was normal?_ Noah asked himself as he strode down bleak hallway. Was he even in the realm of normal anymore? Or had that all passed him by years ago?

All thoughts halted the second he reached his father’s office door. Noah took a deep breath to steel himself, before knocking briskly and waiting for the terse, “Enter,” and pushing into the room he was probably in the most other than his own.

“Sir,” Noah greeted with a slight incline of his head, his hands automatically falling to clasp each other behind his back and his feet settling into parade rest without his consent.

There was a long silence as the Colonel peered intently at the documents in front of him. Noah stood, frozen and silent for nearly three minutes as he waited for the Colonel to finish up whatever he was doing. Noah hardly even flinched – he was used to being ignored and often times the Colonel kept him waiting far longer than a few minutes. The short wait and the less than frigid “Son,” that greeted him a moment later made Noah suspicious. His father was never nice, but for him such treatment was nearly unheard of. Noah narrowed his gaze.

His father wanted something. Badly.

“The ambassador spoke highly of you,” he continued a moment later. “He asked me to pass along his thanks.” There was a long pause. “That’s good work son,” the Colonel finished. Something in Noah glowed at the unexpected and rare praise. He stood a little taller and a little straighter, forcing his expression not to change.

“And now I have another job for you,” the Colonel said, but even the prospect of another ungrateful politician couldn’t dim Noah’s mood. He merely nodded his head and awaited further information. “This will be an extended escort job, some high up Maltese ambassador wants guaranteed safe passage for his son from Washington to Malta. Apparently the father’s been less than legal with some of his dealings and he’s sure his enemies are gunning for Junior.”

Noah’s mind was already off and running – what did he know about Maltese gangs? Were they likely to assume the boy would be traveling by air or by boat? Which route should they take, the one-

His father spoke again, interrupting his thoughts. “The ambassador wishes to have his son stay in Malta for the purpose of finding a wife.” The Colonel snorted. “Apparently he’s a little worried that his dear heir isn’t interested in settling down, so the kid’s to know nothing about why he’s going to Malta.” Noah blinked in surprise, narrowing his gaze when he realized his father was looking at him. “Not a bad idea for you son,” his father said, considering Noah curiously. “A wife, a kid.” 

Noah’s mouth went dry, but he didn’t respond – it wasn’t his turn to speak yet. He couldn’t help but be relieved when his father returned to scrutinizing the file. “I trust you’ll get this one done neat and clean. The kid’s about your age and the trip’ll be a long one, so keep your guard up.” Again, Noah knew better than to respond when he hadn’t been asked a question, so he stood tall and silent, waiting. His father gazed at him for a long moment, eyes unreadable.

Finally, he spoke, “Can I trust you with this?” It wasn’t his father’s words that hurt the most, but his tone. The doubt was obvious; any confidence his father had shown in him only minutes before was gone and any pride Noah had taken from his father’s compliments disappeared abruptly. True, it would be his longest assignment yet and possibly his most difficult one, depending on whether or not this ambassador was telling the truth about just how connected he was to the Maltese crime circuit – but Noah could manage it. He had to manage it.

“Sir, yes sir,” Noah replied promptly. As if there was any other answer.

“You’re dismissed,” his father replied a second later and Noah pivoted sharply. “Not willing to settle down,” his father said aloud, though Noah knew he was talking to himself now. Being dismissed meant you no longer really existed. He took quick steps towards the door to the study, but not before he heard his father scoff. “Yeah right, the kid’s a fag.”

Noah didn’t dare look over his shoulder as he stepped through the door. He took a sharp right and headed back to his room in silence. Stomach twisting painfully, his father’s words echoed in his head - but he wasn’t ready to think about why.

-

“Luciano, I had hoped that you would realize just how important this trip is,” Damian said, his tone disappointed. Luke tried not to squirm in his seat but he couldn’t keep the frown from his face.

“It sounds like a fool’s errand Damian,” Luke replied bluntly. “It sounds stupid.” Luke could hear himself edging on whining but didn’t bother to change his tone. “I don’t see why you couldn’t get one of your lackeys to make this trip for you.” Luke shoved himself further into the leather armchair, folding his arms across his chest firmly.

Damian glared down at his son. Luke had been growing more and more insolent as the weeks went on. His perfect son was becoming less so with every task charged to him. “You will do as you are told Luciano,” Damian replied evenly.

Luke tried not to snap back ‘ _Luke_ ’ because he and Damian had already had that argument about six hundred times already – not that it was really an argument, just Luke impatiently reminding Damian that he preferred  _Luke_  and Damian just as impatiently reminding him that as it was he who picked the damn name, he would call his son whatever the hell he wanted.

Well, perhaps it didn’t go exactly like that (it was more like: Damian’s accent got thicker and he gestured a lot with his hands and he always ended up hugging Luke around the shoulders and winking as Luke just shrugged and gave up) but that was essentially the point. When Luke was with Damian, he was  _Luciano_. When Luke was home…

Luke’s thoughts wandered to the farm. He missed everyone, despite the insanity that seemed to follow his family around. Sometimes he thought about what life would be like if he hadn’t left with Damian, if he hadn’t… well, if he was going to be perfectly honest - if he hadn’t run away from his problems.

Life had gotten complicated very fast Luke’s senior year. Coming out had been chaos with his friends and family – Holden, his dad, (because Damian was just Damian, no matter how many times he called Luke ‘son’) had been surprisingly and amazingly supportive but the buck pretty much stopped there. Everything else had gone to hell – his mom had panicked and said things that Holden assured him that she didn’t mean, Kevin had called him things that Luke was sure he  _did_  mean and that Luke wouldn’t ever forget and Damian had offered a way out.

No college, no Oakdale, no tiny town where being gay meant you were The Gay Kid and the  _only_  damn one – but traveling and real,  _meaningful_ work. Damian was a Maltese ambassador and he’d promised that Luke would be making a difference if he came to work with Damian.

Luke had never really put a lot of thought into making a difference, but he supposed that was what he wanted to do. Hell, that’s what  _everyone_ wanted to do, right? That was the standard answer to any question posed by a guidance counselor –  _n_ _ot really sure, but I know I want to make a difference_. For Luke, the difference had been leaving his family in peace, leaving his friends to go on and forget about him, letting everyone move on from the way Luke managed to ruin everything. So for the past three years, Luke had joined Damian in Washington, working from the Malta embassy there. He wrote e-mails to his family back in Oakdale nearly constantly and called less often, but still. He had never met his little brother Ethan, who had been born several months after he’d escaped and was nearing three soon – but whenever the homesickness grew to be too much to handle, Luke reminded himself of all that had gone wrong because of him.

No, it was better this way. Better for everyone involved.

“This is just a quick trip?” Luke asked, knowing he had already given in. Damian knew too by the look on his face and Luke tried not to scowl.

“Very,” Damian lied, skirting around his desk to settle himself back into the intimidating leather chair on the other side. “Just a quick trip. Of course, you’ll be joined by a bodyguard,” Damian added blithely, ignoring the startled look on his son’s face.

“What?” Luke jerked out of his seat. “You never said a thing about a bodyguard? What the hell Damian!” His gaze narrowed and he made to stand to leave before Damian raised a placating hand in his direction.

“It is for your own good Luciano,” he began, shaking his head. “I have made some enemies in this line of work and there are always those out there wishing to do some harm to those I care about. This is just a precaution son, just a formality. Your trip will take a little longer than usual of course, due to these precautions, but it is nothing to concern you.” Damian’s tone was far more patronizing than comforting, but Luke knew better than to argue.

“I don’t like it Damian,” Luke said warningly, standing after a moment and making a dramatic exit in silence. Damian watched him leave, letting out a long breath as the door slammed behind his son. For his own sake, he hoped Luciano was settled in Malta before he realized that Damian had no intention of bringing him back home – not without a bride at least. Damian was sure that once Luke spread his wings and saw a bit of the world, he’d lose all his silly ideas about the idiotic choice he was making. And the farther away Luciano was from Oakdale, the better. Luciano was  _his_ son, just the way it should be. And no son of his was gay.

-

Noah straightened as two men approached ticket kiosk that was the arranged meeting point. They were undeniably related, matching blond heads tilted towards each other, as if in discussion even as they navigated deftly through the crowd. Two hulking mountains in black followed the men closely and Noah didn’t even try to hide his snort. The muscle might have been impressive to look at, but Noah would’ve bet his entire Cary Grant special anniversary DVD collection that he could take them.

He watched them make their way over and easily identified the shorter of the two as the son, his mouth set in a firm and dissatisfied line even as he nodded at what his father was saying. He was spotless in a sharp gray suit, contrasting sharply with the light of his hair and Noah found himself unbearably curious.

“You are Mr. Mayer?” the older of the two asked as they drew to a pause beside him. Noah inspected him briefly, noticing the fairly innocuous but hideously expensive watch on his wrist and a tiepin Noah was sure would cost about half his yearly salary. Whether that said more about this Mr. Grimaldi character or his paycheck, he wasn’t really sure, but nonetheless, the man was  _rich_. 

Something else Noah knew was that the Grimaldi family was not without its secrets - and Damian Grimaldi had not gotten to where he was by keeping his hands clean. There had been no mention of a son in the reports about Grimaldi, so Noah figured the son had no clue.  _Poor kid._

“I am, sir,” Noah responded firmly, offering his hand. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Ambassador.” Even as he spoke, he couldn’t help but glance past the man’s shoulder to his son, who seemed to be scrutinizing Noah closely, his expression closed off and his eyes unreadable from beneath his bangs. Noah couldn’t even tell what color they were. He bit down on the urge to stare back. For some reason, the blond hair was utterly distracting.

The ambassador shook his hand firmly before gesturing behind him. “This is my son, Luciano. Luciano, this is Mr. Mayer, your escort for the next few weeks.” Luciano stepped forward with a scoff, his gaze shifting to the ambassador.

“I gathered,” he replied dryly, though he shook Noah’s hand too. “It’s nice to meet you too Mr. Mayer.” With a quick toss of his head, Luciano’s face was out in the open for Noah to observe.

Noah tried not to flinch as his stomach did a sudden somersault.  _No_ , begged part of his mind,  _not this again. Not here, not now_. Luciano Grimaldi was just about his age, big brown eyes and lips Noah couldn’t tear his gaze away from. He had to swallow hard to remember that breathing was part of the whole surviving gig. Noah wanted to tear his hair out – he had thought he was over this, or, or… or he had at least buried that part of him as deep as possible.  _Please, anything but this,_  he thought desperately even as his expression remained impassive. 

“Thank you for accompanying Luciano on his trip. It is a very important one and I would hate for anything to happen to him,” Damian said, his gaze narrowing in on Noah, who nodded briskly in response, shoulders straightening automatically and his mind focusing at the matter at hand.  _That’s right Noah, repress._  

“Of course sir, I’m fully prepared to do whatever it takes, sir.” Luke unsuccessfully hid his snort at the prompt reply. Although his bodyguard had baby blue eyes that put James Dean to shame, he was clearly a stick in the mud. Luke promptly decided that he would take on the arduous task of loosening up said blue-eyed stick. He again eyed the man Damian had called “Mr. Mayer” – how  _mysterious_  – and his mouth went a little dry. Long and lean, Mayer stood easily several inches taller than Luke. Even though he held himself stiffly (and try as he might, Luke could not stop his mind from going certain places with that word), Mayer looked like he was prepared to spring into action at any moment, the strength apparent in his arms and long legs.

 _Stop it,_  Luke scolded himself.  _Not another straight guy – especially not one this anally uptight. Just get to Malta and get the job done. You’ve ruined your fair share of lives, stop trying to screw yourself over._

“Good, good,” Damian replied distractedly, glancing at his watch. “Well then, I believe your train is embarking now. Call me with updates on your travel Luciano, I will see you in a few weeks.” He grasped Luke’s shoulder warmly and shook Noah’s hand briskly. “I expect nothing less than your best Mayer. Have a safe trip.” As Noah watched Damian stride away, he wondered how one person could make such an innocuous statement sound so ominous. He was not surprised Mr. Grimaldi had made himself some enemies over the years.

“Damian’s right,” a voice said from behind him suddenly, though Noah merely glanced over his shoulder. “They’re loading the train, we should get going.” Noah jerked his head in a semblance of a nod, before starting towards the correct track. “Wait!” Luciano’s voice again forced him to turn. “Could I have some help with my bags?” Noah blanched. Was the kid serious? He wasn’t some bellboy golf-caddy. He was a highly trained bodyguard; presidents of countries this kid had never even heard of wanted Noah to protect them. He wasn’t a bag boy.

Something in Noah’s expression must have given his thoughts away because Luciano scowled. “I’m not asking you to be my packhorse,” he snapped. “A little help would be nice, that’s all.” The blonde grabbed three of the four bags and stalked past him, ignoring the way Noah had to step aside to make room. Noah glared at Luciano’s retreating back as he snatched up the last bag. He took back everything he said about the boy’s looks. He was a brat, through and through and nothing would probably ever change that.

This trip could not end fast enough.

- 

The train ride was silent for at least an hour, Noah content to remain so for the rest of the whole trip and Luke choosing to fume about Damian’s poor choice in bodyguards. The quiet broke only when Luke’s fidgeting took on an almost desperate edge. Luke is a talker, he was fully willing to admit that about himself and the silence was verging on painful for him. He was pretty sure his bodyguard, despite his pretty looks, might be the most boring individual on the face of the planet, but someone was better than no one.

“So what should I call you?” Luke bit out, his words coming out a little more harshly than he’d wanted. The man beside him didn’t even blink, despite Luke’s sudden outburst. He merely turned his head and narrowed his gaze.

“Mr. Grimaldi,” he began before Luke interrupted him hurriedly.

“Please, call me Luke,” he said, forgetting his earlier ire completely and smiling slightly. His bodyguard opened his mouth, inevitably to protest, but Luke cut him off again – he was really good at that.

“My name is Luciano technically,” Luke explained, leaning forward in his seat, “But no one but Damian calls me that. You must think it weird, that I call him Damian.” Luke flushed slightly, not really sure why – he was just explaining his name to the man. Making a good impression didn’t really matter either way, Luke was stuck with him no matter what.

To be honest, Noah had been wondering about Luke’s less than paternal treatment of someone who was undoubtedly biologically related to him, but Noah had no room to speak – he still called his dad Colonel after all. Noah’s expression remained the same nonetheless.

“My dad calls me Luke,” he added a moment later, not doing much to resolve the mystery.

Noah refused to show his confusion – he’d rather die than admit to listening to Luke’s aimless ramblings. Fortunately, Luke hurried to explain.

“My adoptive father, Holden Snyder, I mean. He and my mom Lily got together after she and Damian broke up when I was little. I was pretty happy being Luke Snyder all my life until one day, Damian pops back in and says, hey guess what? You’re kind of a big deal. Three years later and here I am. Luciano Eduardo Matteo Guiseppe Alessandro Alexei Grimaldi, ambassador’s son. Who… knew?” he ended lamely, scooting back in his seat and wishing he was somewhere else. Luke wanted to bury his head in the sand. Word vomit was a specialty of his and he had just pretty much blabbed his entire back-story to a complete stranger – and a stranger who probably couldn’t care less.

Noah raised an eyebrow and spoke before his mental filter could settle on something more impassive. “Quite a name they tagged on you.” Luke blinked before he grinned brightly and had Noah not tended toward a ‘fewer words the better’ mindset he would have been stunned into silence.

“Yeah, I know,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “Damian’s all about appearances. That’s why I’m going to Malta actually. An ambassadorial trip, make nice with some House officials and their families, eat some good food, enjoy the sun, then head on home.”

 _Not quite,_  Noah thought with a surprising amount of sympathy. He felt a little bad that the kid obviously had no idea what was in store for him, but hell, it wasn’t his job to take care of him. Just to make sure he got there in one piece.

-

From the train, they boarded a boat. Luke had complained long and hard about Damian’s idea of safety, sure beyond anything that his biological father was overreacting to the point of insanity. Luke did not need a near week-long boat ride to guarantee safe passage to Malta. Wouldn’t a shorter trip be less dangerous? Maybe by  _plane_ , of all things?

“Not necessarily,” Mayer responded, making Luke flush a terrible tomato red. He hadn’t realized he said that last bit aloud. “The boat is unexpected. Although we’re almost guaranteed to be targeted-“

“What?!” Luke choked, startled. “We’re going to get attacked?”

The bodyguard nodded curtly. “Your father has many enemies Mr. Grimaldi-“

“Luke,” Luke butted in, speaking automatically. Mayer did not look pleased or amused.

“ _Luke_ ,” he corrected himself, frowning slightly, “Your father has many enemies and probably several within his organization. No plan was going to be completely foolproof, but this way is far safer. Trust me.”

Noah spoke those words without thinking. He wanted to flinch and take them back and apologize – because they were  _stupid_. They were meaningless and useless – trust him? Noah almost wanted to say sorry - but that was almost as stupid as saying 'trust me' in the first place. Mayers didn’t apologize. 

Luciano –  _Luke_  – was supposed to trust him with his life when he had no idea the kind of person Noah was or what his motives were. Noah barely trusted himself and he just asked some stranger, some kid – never mind how old he was, he acted like a kid therefore he  _was_  a kid – to  _t_ _rust him_ , as if it were so easy.

And yet.

“Okay,” Luke muttered, agreeing with relative ease. Noah tried not to gape. What the  _hell_  was this kid on? “Let’s just go.” Noah followed Luke in silence, trudging up the long stairs to the boat’s deck, considering all angles and entrances as he went. When they reached the top of the deck they were greeted by a sharply dressed man decked in his ship whites.

“Welcome aboard, my name is Paul, I’m one of the stewards here aboard this vessel,” here, Paul flashed a bright white smile, his eyes going from Luke to Noah and back. He paused to look the blond up and down slowly. “I’m here to make your stay as comfortable as possible Mr…” Paul tilted his head and gazed at Luke with wide, light brown eyes.

“Grimaldi,” Luke answered with a similar smile, “But please, call me Luke.”

Paul laughed charmingly and Noah fought the urge to punch him in his perfect teeth. “Of course,  _Luke_ ,” Paul said his name like it was a secret. “If you need anything at all sir,  _please_ , let me know.” Noah thought the steward’s tone was far more breathy than necessary, and the wide, slick smile wasn’t fooling anyone. Noah narrowed his eyes at the man, suspicious. He was obviously going on the running suspect list.

Only guilty people smile so nicely, Noah told himself, not glancing at the utterly charmed Luke beside him.

-

Luke and Noah settled into their cabin with relative ease, avoiding each other as much as possible. Noah’s weapons were laid out and cleaned meticulously as Luke showered and changed and unpacked. Luke’s eyes widened as he spotted the veritable armory that Noah had brought with him, but he didn’t say a word. Noah tried to pretend like he didn’t feel Luke’s eyes on him, but he found himself cleaning with a little more flourish than usual, flipping cartridges from hand to hand with well practiced ease.

Eventually Luke told him he wanted to explore the ship and Noah reluctantly agreed. Sometimes he wished for clients that were hermits, so all they’d have to do is sit in a room in silence, where Noah didn’t have to deal with people.

But he supposed hermits didn’t travel much.

Noah trailed after Luke as he investigated the deck, inspecting possible exits and escape routes as Luke peered over the edge and nodded hello to various other passengers. They headed to dinner, where there was an awkward moment where Noah tried to stand by and observe while Luke ate alone and Luke refused to sit until Noah did. They ate in near silence, only making occasional comments on the food or the people around them (that was Luke) or grunting (that would be Noah).

Noah figured this mission was probably going to be very long and very boring.

He wasn’t anticipating anything like what happened that night, certainly. He and Luke settled in to sleep – at least Luke did; Noah sat awake for several more hours before finally deciding to catch a few hours of sleep, settling himself on the bed between Luke and the door. He spent the last couple hours trying not to think very much about what he’d been feeling, but he knew his dreams would run rampant with or without his permission. He hoped they wouldn’t reveal anything too controversial – Noah did not have time for any epiphanies.

When Noah woke next it was to the sound of someone fidgeting with the door’s lock. Noah lay perfectly still, feeling mildly impressed with how well the cabin’s lock was holding up against a picking and waited for the door to eventually give. The first second Noah heard footsteps he was out of his bed and across the room, taking the shadowy figure down without mercy. Whoever it was swore and in the back of his mind, Noah heard Luke start awake in his bed.

“Mayer, wha-” Luke asked shrilly, shakily.

“Grimaldi, bathroom,  _now_ ,” Noah gritted out, struggling against the man who had somehow managed to get a hand free to dislodge Noah from his back. Noah felt Luke pelt by, slamming the bathroom door closed behind him. Noah tried not to let himself get distracted by the mild feeling of satisfaction that at least Luke trusted him enough to do as he said but the man below him managed to send him sprawling. The figure struggled to his feet but Noah kicked out, send the man to the ground also. Soon it was an all out wrestling match, Noah sending the man’s gun flying seconds in.

Noah was pretty sure he’d finally put the man down, but in his panic the intruder swung out wildly and violently and slammed his full fist into Noah’s face. Although the only sound he made was a soft startled exhale, Noah felt like he’d just been punched by a speeding eighteen-wheeler. He shoved the pain down momentarily and struck back with precision and deadly force, barely needing to glance to see where his enemy stood. The other man collapsed from the strike to his throat and Noah nudged him indifferently with his boot. Amateur.

“Mayer!” came the familiar and grating voice and Noah gritted his teeth to keep from swearing aloud. He turned and folded his arms as Luke appeared in his line of sight. “Are you alright?”

“Luke, I told you to stay in the bathroom. I can’t protect you if you don’t start listening to me,” Noah said, not for the first time and he was willing to bet it wouldn’t be his last. Noah rubbed at his ribs absentmindedly, wondering if one of them may be bruised.

“But I saw you get punched and I got worried-“

“Don’t,” Noah instructed firmly, sounding a little harsher than he meant to, but the Grimaldi boy had to realize something. He was here for one reason and one reason only – he was this kid’s bodyguard until he could be delivered to safely Malta. There was no room for bonding. This was a job, same as the rest. That’s what he kept telling himself. “Next time I tell you something, do it. I’d rather not see you die.” The hopeful smile on the boy’s face pulled at something in Noah, so he forced the next sentence out, hoping things would stay simple. “If you die, I don’t get paid,” he snapped, stooping to haul the man up. “So please stop being stupid.”

Luke’s smile faded and Noah tried to be glad about it. “Yeah, whatever,” Luke muttered and disappeared back into the bathroom. Noah glared after him, but his attention was drawn away a second later, settling on the unconscious man on their floor. Where the hell was he supposed to put him? Noah thought tiredly. He considered the would-be assassin for a long moment before shrugging. They weren’t  _that_  far out to sea yet. 

Pitching him off the ship it was.

-

The next morning came far too quickly for Noah’s peace of mind. He woke at five am, cleaned his guns, arranged his arsenal, watched over Luke and finally resorted to staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour. Finally Luke woke and Noah allowed himself to take a shower – he was not willing to leave a defenseless client for any amount of time, not considering one who’d already been attacked a day into their trip.

When Noah left the shower, a billowing steam cloud following as he padded back through the bathroom door, he was greeted by the most wonderful smell. 

“Coffee?” Luke offered, obviously trying to keep his face blank but failing miserably. Part of Noah wished Luke would never learn to shield his emotions. The kid didn’t deserve to lose a part of himself like that.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks,” Noah said stiffly, a little bewildered by the kindness. He took a sip and forced the pleased groan down. It was perfect. “Pretty good,” he grunted instead and took a seat on the foot of the bed closest to the door.

Luke lit up and Noah’s stomach clenched. Oh, he was  _screwed_.

“So tell me about yourself Mayer,” Luke said cheerfully a moment later, plopping down on the opposite bed. Noah froze, his cup halfway to his lips. “C’mon, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together this week and it’s only fair that we get to know each other.” Luke’s feet were dangling off the bed and he kicked them aimlessly. “So… what’s your real name? Your first name?”

Noah answered stiffly, suddenly losing all taste for his coffee – or anything at all actually. “I can’t tell you,” he said, staring down at the cup in his hands.

“Aw, c’mon,” Luke said, wheedling. “It’s not that big a deal, is it? It’s silly to call you Mayer when I-“

“No,” Noah snapped out. “It’s none of your business.” Luke paused for a second, considering his bodyguard and Noah hoped that meant he’d caught on to Noah’s extreme discomfort over being the topic of discussion and was prepared to move on.

“Okaaay,” Luke drawled, glancing around the room aimlessly. “Tell me about your childhood, your homelife. Was it a good one?”

Noah’s hackles were raised and he had to fight hard not to snap at Luke right off the bat. “It’s really none of your business Mr. Grimaldi,” Noah replied tersely. “I’d appreciate you stop asking.” Luke peered at him closely, as if inspecting something he couldn’t see and finding Noah lacking.

“So not a good one?” Luke guessed blandly. “Sorry to hear it, but you know that sometimes talking about it can h-” Noah growled in response. “I’m just saying,” Luke said defensively. “What about girlfriends?” When Noah didn’t answer, Luke frowned. “That’s okay, I bet you’re busy and all with work.” Noah felt his temper growing and the layer of control he usually had over it felt close to snapping. “On that note,” Luke continued, either oblivious or indifferent to Noah’s growing impatience. “Does this business allow for a lot of friends? I mean, it’s got to be hard-”

“Really Mr. Grimaldi, I’m asking you to leave it alone,” Noah bit out, trying not to act like a fifteen year old whose feelings just got hurt. Luke seemed not to hear him.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” Luke asked, now wide-eyed. “Or… or lost any clients?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Noah broke, standing and shouting. “Seriously, leave me the fuck alone.” He was breathing hard like he could barely manage to suck down any air. Something in his chest was throbbing sharply and all of Luke’s innocently obnoxious questions rang through his head –  _friends, home, girlfriend, killed_ – like some sick movie reel.

Luke blinked widely, babbling something about getting to know him and just trying to be friendly but Noah wasn’t having any of it.

“I am not here for your amusement!” Noah yelled, hands clenching tightly enough to force little half moon cuts into the palm of hi. “I am not here for you to pick me apart and put the pieces back together, so you can make some sense of me! You… **you**  are a spoiled selfish brat who does not understand boundaries; now  _leave me the hell_ ** _alone_**.”

Luke gaped for a long moment, hurt flashing across his face and sending something swooping through Noah’s stomach – something that tasted and felt like guilt, but Noah refused to bow to that now. The brat had refused to listen to Noah when he’d asked him to shut up and this was only fair, he told himself.

“I didn’t mean-“

“I bet you don’t mean a lot of things,” Noah spat out, “Like costing your father thousands of dollars to be escorted half way around the world because you can’t be trusted to look after yourself like a big boy.” That was unfair, Alternate Noah argued firmly. That was a complete lie and just because you figured out that this kid’s independence is a weak spot for him gives you no right to use it against him. But Noah’s pride was hurt and he couldn’t seem to back down. Luke’s eyes looked even bigger than usual, wide and bright.

“Now go ahead and cry,” Noah spat out nastily, hating himself more with every word.

“No,” Luke returned calmly, setting Noah off balance by his tone. “Crying only makes things worse.”

Noah wanted to ask  _how do you know?_  but swallowed the question with difficulty and tried to maintain his temper. “I’ll be outside the door,” he said dangerously instead and left, taking his gun with him. 

-

The next day passed in utter awkwardness and Noah couldn’t find it in himself to try and set things right – never mind the fact that he was completely socially inept and had no idea how to even go about fixing something like this anyway. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shouted at someone when he wasn’t in the field and he definitely knew that he’d never yelled at a client. It was obviously something about Luke, Noah told himself and ignored the bit of his brain that agreed, though for far different reasons than Noah let himself believe.

“Mayer?” Noah looked up from where he was inspecting blueprints to see Luke standing as far away from him as the tiny room allowed, looking anywhere but at him. That was the first communication they’d had all day. Noah grunted in response. And that was the second. (Alternate Noah threw up his hands in disbelief.) Luke correctly took this as (reluctant) permission to continue speaking. “I just want to apologize.” Noah blinked and focused his attention more closely on the blond before him. This should be interesting.

“You’re not just some science experiment to be prodded,” Luke continued, glancing up for a split second before dropping his gaze back to his feet. “I just… I’m kind of a stubborn bastard a lot of the time and there’s not really much else to do around here but talk and you have to admit you’re not the best conversationalist and I guess what I’m trying to say is-“ Luke cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Mayer. You didn’t deserve the third degree, your business is your business and I’m sorry for being such a spoiled brat about it.”

Noah blinked. Luke peered at him hesitantly from beneath long bangs.

“Is… are – are we okay?” Luke looked so lost and frustrated and alone that Noah had to forcefully tamp down on the urge to do something ridiculous and completely out of character for him – like gather the aforementioned brat in his arms and hold him.

Because that was ridiculous.

“Apology accepted Grimaldi,” Noah said instead, his tone even. Luke looked inexplicably relieved – Noah didn’t understand why it mattered so much to the blond that Noah not ignore him. It wasn’t like Noah was going to let him die just because he thought he was a brat. He almost opened his mouth to say so but Luke cut him off.

“I know this must seem stupid to you but we’re going to be spending a hell of a lot of time together over the next week or so and it’s not that I’m scared you’re going to off me when I least expect it,” Luke rambled, reading Noah’s mind, “But I’m just reluctant to alienate the only familiar face I’ll be seeing for a long while.” Luke tried to summon a bright smile but Noah saw right through it – Luke meant this, sincerely and completely. And he just so happened to be feeling pretty insecure about it.

Something other than the complete frustration and fury and slight attraction that Noah usually felt around Luke settled in the pit of his stomach – it was sympathy, surprising and slightly bitter. This wasn’t fair, whatever was happening to him, whatever he was feeling for Luke. It needed to stop, right now, Noah told himself uselessly.

“I should apologize too,” Noah replied stonily to his own surprise, suddenly feeling awkward in his own body, unsure of how to go on – fortunately, Luke cut him off.

“No, no, really you don’t have to. I pretty much provoked the hell out of you and you just retaliated and-“

“Accept my apology and I’ll accept yours,” Noah interrupted abruptly, shocked at himself for even managing a full sentence. Luke froze, before letting a timid smile cross his face.

“That sounds… fair,” Luke said slowly, holding out his hand shyly. “Shake on it?”

Noah enveloped the smaller hand in his and shook it brusquely before yanking his own away. But there was no denying something.

Something terrible, Noah groaned inwardly. Alternate Noah smiled.

Luke decided to head to the bar, dinner having passed in awkward small talk, both of them giving anything resembling a personal topic about a two mile berth – but Noah managed several coherent sentences and even something that could have been mistaken as a joke. He was perfectly willing to call it a night and chalk dinner up as a minor success - or at least not a total disaster - but Luke had insisted and so Noah followed him towards the large bar across the room.

Luke settled in, looking wide-eyed at the array of alcohol before forcibly turning his gaze towards the bartender and summoning a smile Noah easily identified as unsure – though he had a feeling most other people would be fooled.

“Sparkling cider please,” Luke murmured, hands stiff against the wooden bartop. Clearly he was uncomfortable, but as he had asked himself to make a trip to the bar, Noah was unsure of what exactly was wrong. The bartender poured a drink and Luke considered it for a long moment before scooting his stool back from the bar. “I’ll be right back,” he said, holding up a hand when Noah made to follow him. “Bathroom Mayer, it’ll be okay.” Noah wanted to argue that it would absolutely  _not_  be okay because he had definitely seen people killed while on the toilet, but Luke just waved his hands. “Just going to wash my hands, I’ll be back in twenty seconds.”

Knowing that anything that came out of his mouth would sound creepy and impossibly farfetched, Noah comforted himself with the fact that he could see the bathroom from here and would know if anyone else entered or exited. Luke slipped down from the stool and made his way across the room, ducking past a large party who converged on the bar right beside Noah. Noah ignored them, keeping his eyes on the door.

True to his word, Luke returned twenty seconds later, almost to the exact second and had to nudge by a few stragglers to get back to his seat. “I’m still alive,” he said and Noah was stunned to realize he was actually  _teasing_  him.

“I’m sure most people who know you are just as surprised as I am,” Noah replied, the words spilling out before he could suck them back up. Luke’s eyes shot open and he laughed, sounding completely surprised to do so. He covered his mouth with his hand, as if horrified to have sounded so shocked to be laughing at Noah, but Noah waved it away. He was astonished as hell too.

To cover it, Luke lifted his lonely glass to his lips, leaning slightly towards Noah to try and keep from slipping off the leather seated stool. Noah caught the scent of the drink and moved completely instinctually.

“Luke, don’t,” Noah snapped, snatching the glass from Luke’s hand. Luke mouthed at him wordlessly, eyes wide and far too attractive for his own good.

“What the hell was that for?” Luke hissed, peering around the dining room like he was worried someone might have witnessed Noah’s insane action. Noah didn’t much care for other people’s thoughts of him – especially when he was perfectly right. Which he was.

Noah leaned forward slightly and sniffed at the glass. The fruity, light smell of the sparkling cider Luke had planned on drinking, the slight metallic hint of carbonation and… yes, Noah thought disgustedly. Almonds.

Noah dumped the cider out in the bar’s sink, his brow furrowed. A sloppy attempt, but a solid one nonetheless. It probably would have been effective had Luke not apologized to Noah before dinner and thus guaranteed his bodyguard would accompany him to the meal and then after. He returned to the seat beside Luke’s, folded a bar napkin silently and adjusted the coaster in front of him minutely before returning his gaze to the man staring at him.

Luke was still gaping at him. “What,” he repeated, though this time the words were hissed through clenched teeth, “was  _that_  about?”

“The drink had cyanide in it,” Noah replied after a long moment of consideration, unsure of how well Luke would deal with the news – poisoning was an insidious sort of attack and one that usually spawned fairly intense paranoia. “A fairly decent amount of it too. Enough to smell.”

Luke snapped his mouth shut and considered Noah for a second. He eyed him warily, before opening his mouth and asking, “Almonds?”

Noah blinked. “…Yeah,” he admitted, caught slightly off guard. “How did you-”

Luke shrugged. “Random trivia gets caught in my brain, hell if I have any control over what stays and what goes.” He played with the rim of an empty glass on the bar, his eyes downcast. “Only ten percent of the population can smell the almond smell that cyanide gives off,” he said idly, drawing his gaze back up to Noah.

Noah was slightly impressed. “That’s true,” he admitted, “and I happen to be one of them.”

Luke was equally impressed. They stared at each other quietly before Luke glanced down at his hands. When he had drawn his gaze back up towards Noah, there was an unreadable look in his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured quietly. “Very much.”

Noah had been on hundreds of missions, had been thanked countless times until the words all ran together in his mind, one big blur of gratitude that hardly mattered to him. But this… this moment – Noah hesitated in thinking it – but this moment felt like it meant more.

“Don’t thank me,” Noah replied honestly and Luke’s head shot up to stare at him. “I should have noticed whoever it was poisoning the drink,” he admitted – that loud, noisy party of drunken guests should have set off alarm bells at eardrum bursting decibels. “I wasn’t observant enough.” I had eyes only for you, Alternate Noah added helpfully. Noah ignored it and tried not to listen to another voice that had sprung up in his head –  _his father’s_. Worthless, helpless, useless and moronic were only a few of the words that his mental version of his father berated him with. If he couldn’t manage to watch a glass get poisoned, what the hell was he doing  _right_? It had to have been poisoned because Noah hadn’t smelled any almonds before Luke went to the bathroom.

Luke watched his bodyguard, noticing the slumped posture and the defeated expression – he looked like a beaten puppy dog, Luke admitted to himself. Nothing like the furious man who tore Luke a new one for being the spoiled brat he knew himself to be. As much as Luke regretted asking all those questions, he knew there was more than his impertinence behind the reason that Mayer reacted so badly. This job meant a lot to him – more than anything probably. Luke felt even guiltier about making it so hard.

“Something else to drink?” the bartender asked, coming by to notice that Luke was without a glass. Noah watched Luke straighten his shoulders and paste on that same generic smile. “More cider please,” Luke said firmly. “Though perhaps from a different, new bottle?”

-

Noah watched Luke intently while simultaneously pretending he was doing nothing of the sort. Luke surrounded his new drink with both hands, staring down into what Noah had been surprised to discover was cider – yet again. He’d figured that by now Luke would have moved on to something harder.

Near-death scares often prompted even the most stone cold sober man to peer down into the depths of a bottle, but before Noah could even consider thinking about how he would go about asking a question like that (Luke had been nosy enough for the both of them today, thanks very much), Luke’s head jerked up and his gaze met Noah’s.

They were just brown eyes, Noah told himself later. Common brown eyes with nothing much special about them – except that they were Luke’s and Noah was at a loss to figure out how to stop his stomach from twisting into knots when Luke was nearby.

“D’you mind if we head back to the room?” Luke asked, after a long moment of consideration, his eyes never leaving Noah’s face. Noah jerked his head stiffly to signal his agreement and they both stood, Luke leading the way out of the bar.

“Mr. Grimaldi!” came a voice from behind them and Noah instinctively shot an arm out to grasp Luke’s shoulder, preventing him from turning and allowing Noah to meet the possible threat head on. Paul, the steward from earlier who sent Noah’s skin crawling, smiled beatifically as he stepped towards the pair. Noah half wished he had a reason to incapacitate the interruption, make some claim about protecting his client. Instead, he greeted the steward with a slightly inclined head and narrowed eyes, reluctantly allowing Luke to turn and see who had stopped them.

“Mr. Grimaldi was returning to his room,” Noah said firmly. “Perhaps another time.” Paul opened his mouth to object, his smile fading to an expression Noah didn’t trust, but Luke interrupted him.

“Sorry Paul, I’m very tired. Tomorrow morning would be better.” The charming grin reappeared on Paul’s face and he tilted forward in a way that somehow managed to intimate a full formal bow. Noah didn’t like it even as something in him settled at the idea that Luke would be returning to the room with him.

Alternate Noah considered punching him in the face. Real Noah, for once, was in total agreement.

“Of course Mr. Grimaldi,” Paul said, flashing his bright smile and casually tossing his blond hair out of his eyes. “I look forward to it. Sleep tight.” He punctuated his last sentence with a casual brush of his hand over Luke’s, a proprietary motion that sent Noah’s stomach twisting. Luke’s answering smile was the last straw.

Noah impatiently brushed Paul’s hand away and forced a tight, polite smile. “We really must be going.” He all but herded Luke down the hall, away from the preening paragon of perfection, trying not to think about why he was so vehemently anti-Paul.

They reached the room moments later, Luke fumbling with the key as Noah – mostly out of habit and only a little bit in hopes Paul would not reappear – scanned the hallway around them.

“Paul seems nice,” Luke commented distractedly, shedding his coat and shoes as he crossed the room.

Noah grunted in response.

Alternate Noah swore. Repeatedly.

-

Luke was flipping channels aimlessly and Noah was pretending not to pay attention. Unfortunately for him, Luke hovered a split second too long on a black and white screen – just long enough for Noah to make a noise of protest when he clicked past.

“What?” Luke said, surprised. “What was it?” Noah fought with himself for a moment, but he’d already hung himself out to dry – there was no way the brat was going to let it go now.

“Only Angels Have Wings,” Noah admitted, hoping his voice didn’t also hint at the fact that this was one of his favorite movies ever.

“Huh?” was Luke’s only response as he flipped back to the black and white screen. “You like this movie?” There was a long pause as they watched a plane take off a battered looking runway in what looked like a terrible storm. “But it’s in black and white,” he said, sounding bewildered.

Noah spoke before he could even think. “So? Movies back then meant something – they were simpler, but they were truer too. Hawks, the director, even said that every single thing in that movie was true – you accept every character and all their actions because even if you disagree – you know why they’re doing what they’re doing. Truth’s hard to come by sometimes and-” All of a sudden it struck him that he’d been babbling. He flushed and chanced a glance up at Luke, who was staring at him, fascinated. “Never mind,” he muttered, rubbing embarrassedly at the back of his neck, which he was sure was bright red. “Sorry-”

“No!” Luke shouted, before flushing himself and biting at his lip. “No, no, I – uh, I liked hearing it.” A small shy smile crept across his lips. “I, um, I’ve never seen any black and white movies and, uh,” he paused, considering Noah for a long moment. “I’ve never heard you talk so much before.” He flashed a grin to show he was teasing and Noah’s resolve cracked a little more. Luke folded his legs like he was in kindergarten again, hugging a pillow to his chest. “Tell me more?” he asked, his voice small but curious.

Noah considered him for a second, his self imposed silence warring with his need to make Luke happy and his desire to share his love of old movies with  _someone, anyone._  “Only Angels Have Wings is a story,” he started hesitantly, the words that usually spun around his head disjointedly, making it hard to form normal sentences and normal conversation, settling together with disconcerting ease, “A story that’s partly about love and partly about friendship and a helluva lot about flying. It's simple: you're either good enough or you're not, and you're only as good as your last flight.”

For once in his life, Real Noah talked all night. A part of him murmured that he could have talked all morning and the day after too, as long as Luke kept looking at him with those wide brown eyes, his focus only on Noah – as if he’d rather be no where but with him. 

Alternate Noah didn’t make a peep.

  


-

The next day passed much the same as all the others, Luke wandering the ship for several hours, Noah wandering behind him. The only difference was that instead of remaining completely silent as Luke charmed the small children running around, Noah found himself dragged into conversation occasionally. They returned to the room at lunch to watch bad tv – Luke insisted – and Noah ended up showing Luke how to aim and use a gun. No shots were fired (thank god) but Noah was insistent that Luke figure out the safety and stuff, in case Noah couldn’t get to him in time.

“You mean you won’t always be there to save me?” Luke asked with wide, innocent eyes and a cheesy grin. “But you’re Superman, aren’t you?” Noah flushed an embarrassing shade of red and chuckled weakly before returning to cleaning his gun.

Luke’s teasing had become more frequent – nothing nasty, just playful. Noah was at a loss as to how to respond in a normal, human sort of way, but Luke didn’t seem to hold his social incompetence against him. Dinner was a more relaxed event than usual, though Luke was embarrassed that Noah insisted on watching their meal be made and then brought to a table – but on this, Noah wasn’t budging. He might have made a rookie mistake before, but that wasn’t going to happen again.

“Under better circumstances, Malta wouldn’t be a bad destination,” Luke mused. “But I can’t help but hate it off the bat.”

“Is it a nice place?” Noah asked, if only to keep Luke chatting so that he didn't have to.

“Beautiful,” Luke admitted. “Absolutely gorgeous, and the people are amazing and the food is delicious and…” he trailed off and peered out the window. “And inevitably I’ll have to marry some girl and settle down there and have 2.5 children and a white picket fence.”

“And you don’t want that,” Noah stated rather than asked. He knew what Luke wanted. He was a first hand observer of what Luke really wanted.

“Wouldn’t mind the kids,” Luke considered. “But I’d rather marry some guy and not put up a fence. We could have a wide open yard, or a farm, like back home.” Luke breathed a long sigh. “I miss the farm.”

 _A farm_ , Noah thought, picturing it in his mind. He wouldn’t mind living on a farm. It seemed quiet and picturesque and everything his life wasn’t right now. “That sounds nice,” Noah said wistfully, not catching the strange look on Luke’s face at his tone.

Luke struggled with all the questions that wanted to pour out from hearing those words leave Noah’s mouth, but instead he bottled them all back up and took a deep breath. “It really is,” he admitted, playing with his fork. “It’s my Grandma’s farm really – my dad’s mom.” Noah looked at him and Luke smiled sheepishly. “My real dad, Holden. Damian’s not really much for farms and animals. Grandma Emma runs the house and my dad runs the stables – he used to take me riding all the time when I was little,” Luke said, staring at his plate, but not really seeing it. “We used to all go with Faith and Natalie, my little sisters, and I was so looking forward to showing Ethan…” Luke trailed off, obviously thinking. A long moment of silence passed where Noah let himself just stare at Luke, taking in every detail that he’d forced himself not to notice over the past few days.

A second later, Luke shook himself out of it. “Sorry!” he said with a flush, “I guess I’m just missing my family a bunch.” Noah’s blank look seemed to prompt Luke to keep explaining, so he added, “Ethan’s my little brother, I haven’t actually met him because he was born after I left with Damian but we talk on the phone now and Dad says he asks about me and-” Luke cut himself off, this time blushing madly. “And I tend to overshare,” he finished, fidgeting. Noah snorted and sipped his water.

“You’re making up for me,” Noah said, daring Luke to smile – which he did, gladly. “Tell me about the farm,” Noah ordered a moment later, knowing that Luke wanted nothing more than to talk about his family. Luke brightened significantly and then launched into a story about something called a Hubbard squash and a machete.

Dinner finished with more than one laugh from both Luke and Noah. They stood to head back to their room while Luke was describing the perfection of a genuine Grandma Emma oatmeal raisin cookie. Noah could not deny that his mouth was watering - he was a bit of a sucker for a good oatmeal raisin.

“And  _then_ , all of a sudden, my Uncle Jack shows up and is like-”

“Mr. Grimaldi,” interrupted a voice from behind them. Noah turned first and was treated to the wide, brilliant smile of Paul the steward. “You promised me some time tonight,” he said, biting his lip. 

 _He promised no such thing,_  Alternate Noah snapped and Noah fought hard to keep the words in. Instead he looked at Luke, who had first smiled upon the appearance of Paul, but was now looking disappointed at his reminder.  
   
“Oh, right,” Luke said, glancing from Noah to Paul and back again. Alternate Noah smiled charmingly and took Luke by the elbow and said something witty that was clearly meant as a brush off. 

Real Noah coughed. Awkwardly.

“If you-” Noah started, but Luke spoke at the same moment:

“But I-” They both froze and stared at each other. Noah realized he must look painfully hopeful and terribly out of his depth, but he couldn’t really stop it. Luke’s face, for once, was entirely unreadable and Noah found himself wishing – not for the first time – that he could read minds. “I was kind of in the middle of something,” Luke said finally, turning back to Paul, flashing a wide bright smile that sent Noah’s stomach flipping. “You seem to catch me at the worst times Paul,” he added, tapping him on the arm. “Maybe third time’s the charm?” he asked, and when Paul nodded pleasantly, Luke turned back to Noah and nodded. “Back to the room?”

Noah, who had watched the past thirty seconds with something like complete astonishment, merely nodded in response and trailed helplessly after Luke.

They traveled down the hallway in complete silence until Luke finally turned to Noah and awkwardly said, “I hope that was all right.” Noah nodded furiously in response and Luke went on babbling – as he was wont to do when he had no idea what to say. Noah found it really quite – adorable – _funny_ , he insisted, wondering if he was the only one who argued with bits of his brain every other second. “I mean, I was feeling kind of tired and he’s a nice guy and all but we were talking and I didn’t want to-”

Noah took pity on the poor man and interrupted, “I’m glad Luke,” he said, more seriously than he had intended. “Really. I like hearing about your family,” he added more hesitantly – but there was no need, because Luke grinned so widely Noah was half-afraid it’d fall right off his face.

The topic of conversation drifted once they were in the room – from Luke’s siblings to his parents to his aunts and uncles and then to his cousins and then his grandmothers and how he was definitely more a Snyder than a Grimaldi, no matter how often he had to throw Damian’s name around. Noah was overwhelmed with how much family one person could actually have. It seemed almost impossible, but Noah knew that his experience with family was not the norm either. Luke was being almost insultingly careful about avoiding anything Noah might not want to talk about and refrained completely from asking any questions in return – which seemed unfair.

Slowly, carefully, Noah told a few stories from his own childhood. They were mostly the embarrassing ones – like attending a popular girl’s costume-only party in plain clothes or getting so lost on a school field trip that the whole museum had to be evacuated, only to find Noah napping on a bench in the middle of the modern art exhibit. 

“And no one woke you up before then?” Luke asked, aghast and highly entertained.

“They all figured I was another exhibit,” Noah shrugged, a slight smile on his face, “And that I was just making some grand statement about the death of art or something.” Luke cracked up and nearly tumbled off his bed - and in his distraction Noah let the smile drop from his face. He of course didn’t tell Luke that the reason he had no costume was because his father refused to buy one for him, citing Halloween as a completely worthless holiday and that when his father heard about him getting lost on a school field trip he’d thrown him out into the woods behind the base the next day and forced him to find his way back.

These were things you didn’t tell a stranger, Noah had always thought – but it seemed like Luke didn’t abide by the same rules that everyone else did. The conversation turned far more serious as Luke admitted although his family was huge and crazy and wonderful, he was still scared to go back.

“I nearly ruined a lot of things when I was home,” he said, picking at the bedspread beneath his knees. “So when Damian offered an out, I took it.” Luke grimaced. “And three years later I’m exactly where I started. How’s that for growing up?”

Both men were quiet for a moment before something unexpected broke the tension between them.

“I’ve been doing this job since I got out of high school,” Noah admitted. “I didn’t go to college, I didn’t even enlist like my dad had said was a possibility. I just hopped on a bus, headed straight to headquarters and signed up.” There was a long pause where Noah tried to figure out how to say what he wanted to say next before realizing only the truth would ever get the point across. “I was scared,” he confessed, half expecting lightning to strike him down where he sat. “I was scared of what was going to happen if I went away or didn’t do as my dad asked. So yeah, I get the not-really-growing up thing.”

Luke was staring at him with wide, astonished eyes and Noah suddenly felt ashamed. Should he not have said anything? Was he abruptly more pathetic in Luke’s eyes? He didn’t think that-

“Thank you for telling me that,” Luke said breathlessly and Noah looked up from his knees to see Luke’s gaze trained wholly on his face. “It always feels like I’m alone and… well, thanks for making it seem like I’m not.” Luke managed a half smile. “I’ve just screwed up so much in my life that being normal almost feels like a non-option.” Noah nodded so hard it felt like his head was going to fall right off his neck.

“Exactly,” he agreed, “And having the Colonel as my father doesn’t exactly help matters.” It felt simultaneously completely dangerous and such a relief to tell the truth about his father. He wanted to say so much more – how making mistakes wasn’t even an option where his father was concerned, how he was pretty sure he had never been normal in his whole life – but there was only so far Noah could go. “It’s hard,” he added inadequately though Luke just nodded fervently.

“I…” Luke paused for a very long time, almost long enough to convince Noah that perhaps he wasn’t going to say anything at all, but finally Luke took a deep breath and stared Noah straight in the eyes. “I used to be an alcoholic.” Noah stared right back, unsure of what to say in the face of such an admission – until he realized that all he had to say was exactly what he would want to hear.

“Getting past it must have been extremely difficult,” he said carefully. “The strength that takes is impossible to comprehend.” The shuttered look in Luke’s eyes faded slowly as he nodded.

“I hurt a lot of people,” he said hoarsely, “Including myself.” Luke took a deep shuddering breath. “I couldn’t bear if I hurt anyone I care about again. The thought scares the hell out of me. It keeps me up at night.” Noah wanted to reach out and take Luke’s hand in his and tell him that would never happen, but he knew that wasn’t the right thing to do or say.

Problem was, he knew the right thing to say. Bigger problem was, it was the worst thing to say.

“Luke, there’s something you need to know bout Damian,” Noah said finally, cracking his knuckles nervously. “These people trying to hurt you, they’re definitely Damian’s enemies…” he trailed off and watched Luke’s eyes narrow in incomprehension. “But they’re not political enemies, they don’t want to hurt you because he’s an ambassador,” Noah said. “They want to hurt you because Damian’s a criminal. He’s one of the leaders in the Maltese crime syndicate. He’s hurt a lot of people Luke, I’m sorry.”

Luke gaped, open mouthed – but even as his temper flared and his mind demanded to see proof, a voice in the back of his head told him that it was true. Of course it was true – Luke could see it now looking back. Things he had written off as simply Damian-quirks or government secrets were now so apparent to him that he wanted to scream – how could he be so stupid?

“If Damian’s a criminal, why did he send me to Malta?” Luke asked dully, knowing now that this trip could not be for what he said it was. Damian would not dare to send his son to Malta, would not dare risk his heir for something as silly as ambassadorial duties. Noah watched him for a long minute, knowing this was moment of truth. “Tell me!” Luke demanded, turning to glare at Noah. “I know you know!”

“He wants you to settle in Malta,” Noah said haltingly. “He wants you to find a home and find a wife and have children. This whole thing is… it’s, well… I-”

“It’s like one big de-gaying journey,” Luke said wonderingly, frozen in place. He wondered why he had not seen it all earlier, why he had ever thought that he could be accepted for what he was, the person he had become. His heart ached as he thought of all the lies Damian had told over the years – lies meant to keep him close, keep him sheltered. Lies meant to convince him that he was loved.

“I have to go home,” Luke said with sudden clarity. “I have to go back to Oakdale, back to my family. I can’t-”

“No Luke,” Noah said, suddenly nauseous. “You won’t be going back to Oakdale.” Luke whipped his head around to stare at Noah.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly. “Why can’t I go home?” He was preparing himself for another heartbreaking announcement, Noah realized. Only, he didn’t realize that this time it was going to be Noah’s fault.

“I can’t  _let_  you go home,” Noah said quietly. “My mission is to take you to Malta and make sure you get there. I can’t fail.”

Luke cracked.

“What the hell do you mean, you can’t  _let_  me go home?! You  _asshole_ , I can’t go to Malta! This was all a trick, don’t you understand? Don’t you understand that I’m not supposed to be here? I’m supposed to be with my family!” Luke was gasping for air, his rage spilling across the room and making Noah flinch.

“I can’t let you-” Noah repeated – but that was a mistake, because Luke launched himself at his bodyguard and slammed his fist into his face. Noah swore, clenching one hand against his eye and grabbing Luke’s shirt with his other.

“I hate you!” Luke shouted, knowing good and well that if Mayer wanted to bring him to Malta, there was no way he wasn’t going. Mayer was stronger and faster than he was and Luke was trapped on a boat with only one destination – hell. “Fuck you! How  _dare_  you!”

Noah managed to shove Luke off of him but he didn’t even try to strike him back. He just pushed him back to his own bed and stood, looming over him with sorrowful eyes. Luke couldn’t give a shit right now – his world was ending and it was all Mayer’s fault. “I’m sorry Luke,” Noah muttered before heading for the bathroom.

Luke didn’t respond, he just stared into space for a long while, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do next. Eventually he lay down, tucking himself under the covers and clenching his eyes shut against the light under the bathroom door. 

This was a betrayal of the highest order, Luke fumed. He had shared his deepest and darkest secrets with Mayer, hoping that maybe he’d found a friend in the bodyguard –  _maybe even more,_  whispered a sneaky voice Luke pretended didn’t exist. Well, it was too late for that now, Luke snarled to himself. He wasn’t sure who he was more furious with – Noah, for keeping this all from him and even admitting that he wasn’t going to let Luke go home or Damian, for manipulating and lying to him. And ultimately, wanting him to change.

Luke huddled down further into his bed, smothering himself in his pillow. All right, if he was being perfectly honest, he hated Damian much more for this. Not only was his image of the calm, cool, collected and professional Damian completely shattered, but his biological father was a career criminal. Every day, Damian hurt someone or someone’s family – and he acted as if it was his job! He no doubt wanted Luke to join 'the family business' eventually. Luke could hardly breathe thinking about it. On top of all that, all of Damian’s words about accepting him and being there for him no matter what meant absolutely  _nothing_. He didn’t accept Luke the way he was, he hated that Luke was gay and he wanted to change him, just like everyone else in the world. Luke sunk deeper into his pillow, trying to convince himself that it was only Damian’s betrayal that stung. He shouldn’t have expected anything more from someone who was just his bodyguard.

Noah lay in bed, wondering if tonight had been what having a friend was like and wondering how he could have screwed it all up already.

It took a very long time for either of them to get to sleep that night.

Unsurprisingly, Luke was still furious with him the next morning and so Noah was again treated to a completely silent day of following him around wherever he wished to go. It was almost painful to remain silent now, because now he felt like he  _knew_  Luke, knew him well enough to know what to say to comfort him or at least knew what might make him laugh.

But Luke was having none of it and Noah understood why – but there was so much more at stake for Noah than for Luke.  _More than his happiness?_ snapped that hated part of his brain.  _Because that’s what he’s losing. That and his freedom._  Noah told himself not to exaggerate – Luke would be fine. He would go to Malta and completely disobey his father’s orders and find someone and be happy- y _eah, like you know everything about disobeying fathers and what it takes to be happy,_  snarked that voice.  _Maybe it’s just as hard for him as it is for you.  
_  
Noah refused to believe that, because then he had absolutely no idea what to do.

-

Someone aboard the boat had decided that a party was in order and so around midnight, the deck was full of mildly drunk passengers all twirling and laughing to the dulcet sounds of someone’s iPod plugged into a set of speakers. Luke had told Noah (the first communication of the day) under _no_  circumstances was he  _not_  going – so Noah had followed Luke silently to the deck, forced to watch as everyone around him had a great time and he was forcibly reminded of every middle school dance in his entire lifetime.

Worst of all, Paul was here. He and Luke had settled together at a table across the room (though Noah had changed that rather quickly, mercilessly bumping the couple at the table directly diagonal from them) and were chatting with their heads bowed closely together.

Paul was moving in, shifting ever so much closer to Luke with every minute that passed. Noah watched from afar, teeth clenched against the roaring tide of jealousy that tore through him. He couldn’t let this happen, not right in front of his eyes. Paul was no good for Luke – Noah got a shifty feeling from him and it was Noah’s job to protect his charge from any and all threats. For once, Alternate Noah stepped up to the plate and shoved hard – before he could consciously consent to moving across the floor towards Luke, he was halfway there.

He paused by Luke’s table and cleared his throat to get his attention. He tried not to react to Paul’s hand on Luke’s leg, climbing higher every second.

“Luke, I need to speak with you for a moment,” Noah said firmly, with more certainty than he felt. He had no fucking clue what he was going to say once Luke came with him, but first things first – he had to get Luke away from Paul. He wasn’t quite sure whether Luke would listen to him or not – his anger the night before was palpable, but he didn’t get it. He didn’t get the position Noah was in. Noah  _had_  to complete his mission – failure was not an option. Maybe somehow Noah could explain? He doubted that, but he had to say  _something_.

He wasn’t a complete coward after all.

Noah’s expression must have been serious enough to worry Luke, because he immediately stood, brushing Paul’s hand from his thigh as if it had never been there. “Is something wrong Mayer?” Luke asked worriedly, rounding the table to stand beside him.  _Very wrong,_  Alternate Noah insisted. _I should be the one with my hands all over you. I like you Luke, I like you a lot. Let’s try this thing we’ve been dancing around._

Noah took a deep breath to tell Luke just that – but at the last second, Alternate Noah failed him and Noah found himself mouthing wordlessly. “I need to tell you…” Noah hunted around mentally for something that would get Luke away from Paul. “I don’t think you should see Paul right now,” he finished lamely, no explanation whatsoever.

Luke froze, clearly taken aback, not expecting that. “What?” he asked, startled. “What do you mean?” Luke’s gaze narrowed. “And what business of it is yours?” he asked, this time his tone was defensive and disbelieving. “I don’t think I asked your opinion about it, so I certainly don’t want it!”

“He’s not interested in you for you,” Noah snapped. “He’s dangerous, I guarantee it. I get a bad feeling off of him and you shouldn’t go near him.”

Luke gaped at him and Noah tried not to look away from his narrowed gaze. “I shouldn’t go  _near him?_ ” Luke repeated slowly, his anger apparent. “Who the  _hell_  do you think you are! You have absolutely no say in my private life,” Luke bit out furiously. “I don’t care what you think! If I want to spend time with someone, I  _will_.” With that, Luke stormed back to his table, throwing himself back into his chair with a thud.

Noah watched him go, his anger increasing as he watched Paul bend his head to ask a question in Luke’s ear. Noah contemplated taking him down with  _baritsu_  or perhaps a well placed throat punch, but figured that might draw too much attention to himself. He supposed poisoning was the way to go but before he could start any master plans, Luke had pinned him with a furious gaze.

Noah bit back any replies that Alternate Noah might have come up with. He’d had enough of Alternate Noah for a very long time – it was obvious doing what you wanted didn’t get you any further than doing what everyone else wanted.

Noah took one last glance at the now-cheerful couple before heading for the bar. If he was going to survive tonight, he was going to have to be pretty damn drunk.

-

Paul was pressed up against Luke in the worst way and Noah’s stomach rebelled at the sight. Their mouths moved slowly together, Paul groping at bits of Luke Noah had only dreamt about touching.

He was drunk. This was terrible, god, he was supposed to be doing a job right now, but right now, he had to admit that the alcohol soothed a part of him that had been aching. Everything was hazy now, bright and slightly out of focus, and that meant the anger and jealousy he’d been trying to ignore weren’t fighting for the forefront of his mind. Being drunk meant he could sit here and pretend like he wasn’t infinitely attracted to Prince Luciano Grimaldi Blah De Blah Blah. It meant that he wasn’t thinking about Luke’s dimples or smile or teeth or lips or hips or…

Maybe being drunk wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.

His thoughts drifted more than usual and Luke’s hipbones were suddenly at the front of his mind, pale and perfect and sharp, perfect for biting and licking and oh god he was screwed.

Noah groaned and buried his face in his hands, shoving the latest vodka-filled drink away from him. He was up a couple beers and at least twice, maybe thrice, that in shots. He was so far gone it was ridiculous. How could he let himself go like this? He had a job to do; he had to protect Luke.

That sobered him up. He was laying down on the job when he was supposed to be looking after the golden boy. His golden boy.

He swore. Screwed. So screwed.

The rest of the night passed like that – Noah cursing himself and Paul and Luke kissing. Noah tried not to show the rush of gratitude he felt when eventually, at around half past two, Luke said goodbye to Paul and headed back to their room – alone.

They went to bed in silence.

-

When Noah woke next, he wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t until the second explosion rocked the boat violently did he realize that perhaps it was time to hustle it on out of there.

“Snyder, up,” Noah commanded, his voice loud in the tiny room - he tried not to wince at the headache that had settled like a knot at the back of his mind. Luke snuffled slightly, hugging his pillow tighter. Had Noah been able to spare even a few brain cells, he might have found the sight mind-bendingly adorable, but as it was, Luke had to be alive to ever be cute again, so it was time to drag him the hell out of there.

And drag him he did. “Luke, move your ass,  _now_ ,” Noah half shouted, latching on to one pale ankle sticking out of the sheets and pulling  _hard_. Luke tumbled out of bed with a squawk, having barely enough time to swear before Noah hauled him off the floor and propelled him towards the door.

“Mayer, what the hell-” Luke started angrily, his fury from several hours earlier regaining some momentum even as he hiked up his pajama bottoms with one hand and tried to tug his elbow out of Noah’s grip with the other.

“Something’s wrong with the boat,” Noah replied steadily, ignoring the chaos of the hallway – people darting in and out of rooms, some screaming, some dragging heavy suitcases of belongings they’d rather not leave behind – and aiming straight for the stairs that led to the deck.

Most of Luke’s anger and bleary-eyed sleep expression faded as he stared open mouthed at the situation around him. “How the fu-” Luke began dumbly, slowing his steps to peer down the crowded hallway.

“Snyder, move your ass or get left!” Noah snapped. He was beginning to smell smoke – it occurred to him that the explosions probably had started some fires and he was not going to be trapped on some burning, sinking hellhole while Luke sat around, fascinated by panicky tourists. He tugged more firmly at Luke who –  _finally!_  – started moving, keeping to Noah’s heels as the taller man split the sea of shouting patrons with relative ease. They hit the stairs at a dead run, Noah taking them two at a time and Luke scrambling up behind him.

When they reached the deck, Noah swore. Flames licked the sides of most of the above floor cabins and were close to consuming the rails that lined the edge of the deck. There was no way this boat was going to survive the inferno – how the hell were they supposed to get off?

“Mayer…” Luke said tremulously, as if he was thinking the exact same thing. Without meaning to, Noah’s grip on Luke’s elbow slipped to his forearm, where he squeezed reassuringly.

“I’ll figure it out,” Noah assured him, eyes trained on the smoke clouds where the ship’s officials seemed to be streaming out from, coughing violently. He recognized the four gold stripes on one man’s jacket and dragged Luke over to him. “Captain,” Noah said calmly, “What’s going to happen next?” The captain dragged his gaze up to settle on Noah’s face, which seemed to be stating ‘tell me,  _now_ ’ inarguably. He coughed a couple more times into his hand before speaking.

“The rescue boats are about ten minutes from us, fortunately we were close to port when the first explosion happened. We’ve got to get everyone on the lifeboats and off the ship because I’m not sure how much longer she’s going to hold.” Noah tried not to swear, but he had grown up on army bases and military guys swore better than anyone in the entire world. After a few creative combinations, Noah was ready to move.

“All right then, let’s get this crowd moving.” With a nod to the Captain, Noah snatched at Luke’s elbow and dragged him back through the panicking crowd on the deck, which was slowly but steadily growing. Some of the crew had already began the filling and lowering of lifeboats and Noah gladly made his way over to one.

“Okay Luke, this is your ride. I’ll see you on shore,” Noah said absentmindedly as he gestured towards the boat – his attention was settled on the rigging attaching the boat to the ship. Was that steady? Was it safe? He had half a mind to go check it himself, never mind the capable-looking deckhand standing beside it.

“What?!” Luke’s reply blared in his ear and Noah flinched. “What do you mean, you’ll see me? You’re getting on the boat too, aren’t you?” Luke looked fully prepared to throw a tantrum and Noah groaned internally.  As much as he could admit to himself that he loved it, this was  _so_  not the time for Luke to be his usual independent, stubborn self.

“Luke, get on the lifeboat,” Noah said tersely, “I don’t have time for this.”

“I’m not getting on the fucking lifeboat Mayer,” Luke snapped back. “Not until you get on one too.”

“I can’t get  _on_  a fucking lifeboat Snyder,” Noah shouted, “I’m a little busy!”

“Well then, I’m staying right here!” Luke shouted back, stamping his foot for emphasis and forcing Noah, not for the first time, to draw a parallel between Luke and a small child.

“You are not, you are  _my_  responsibility and you are getting on the damn lifeboat!” Noah nearly bellowed, fully prepared to  _throw_  Luke onto the next available boat.

“That makes sense!” Luke snorted, throwing Noah off guard. “Let’s leave me defenseless with a boat full of strangers who possibly want to kill me and leave  _you_  here on the ship! Don’t be stupid!” Noah blanched. He had to admit, the kid had a point. Noah scowled furiously – how  _dare_  he have a point.

“Fine Snyder, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Noah replied unconvincingly, feeling awkward in his own skin after their bizarre and fairly attention grabbing shouting contest. “Now help me sort out the others.” Luke nodded, looking just as awkward in return, not that it made Noah feel much better about himself.

They worked side by side to get people’s attention and get them forming lines towards the slowly filling lifeboats – Luke was surprisingly effective at getting people to pay attention. Noah’s version of calming people down usually meant shouting at them and giving them a task to complete – it was the only way with military types. Luke of course had a much better grasp on how  _normal_  people reacted in these situations (which, in Noah’s opinion, was fairly uselessly).

“But my children!” One woman gasped, clutching her daughter and son, one on each arm. She looked close to hysterics. Noah felt as if he was too.

“They’ll be fine ma’am,” Luke assured, her firmly steering her towards one of the lines. “There are special lifejackets for children and you can hold them in the boat. You’ll all be just fine.” She obeyed without another word and Noah let out a long breath. Minutes passed and although the deck was still teeming with screams and rushing people, the lines were moving surprisingly fast.

“Maybe there’s time to go grab my stuff,” Luke mused aloud and Noah whirled around to glare at him. He didn’t care of Luke hated his guts, the brat was not about to go get himself killed for some clothes and a toothbrush.

“Are you serious Snyder?” Luke looked only slightly cowed. “The boat is on  _fire_  because part of the engine  _exploded_  and probably because of your father’s enemies are trying to murder you and you want to head below deck where you will inevitably DIE, so that you can grab your favorite pair of jeans?” Luke scowled at that and opened his mouth to argue the point but Noah cut him off. “We are getting off this boat in the next ten seconds and that’s final, okay?”

Luke snapped his mouth shut and nodded sharply. “Fine,” he snapped, “But how do you propose we do that Mr. Mayer?” Noah glanced around, noticing the lines snaking around the boat, though the deck was far less packed than it was a few minutes ago. He opened his mouth to speak when his entire world went white with fire and heat. Noah was blown back several feet, landing hard and painfully a second later. When the flashes and black spots across his vision cleared, Noah found himself staring at a towering inferno where the engine room used to be. The entire boat would start collapsing in on itself within minutes and whoever was left on the boat would be trapped there.

He wasn’t the only one to figure this out – people were beginning to jump off the boat, trying to get away from the flames.

“Luke!” Noah bellowed, his vision fogging with all the smoke that was gathering. “Luke, where are you!?”

“Mayer?” came a call from somewhere to his left and Noah’s knees almost crumpled beneath him as he spotted a blond head emerging from the crowd and smoke, the only sign he’d been in an explosion a cut across his cheek.

“Luke, we have to jump,  _now_ ,” Noah said, grabbing Luke’s arm and hauling ass to the side of the boat and peering down into the depths. The water was full of lifeboats, which were slowly becoming overcrowded as jumpers were pulled aboard. The amount of lifeboats in the water was not nearly enough for the amount of people and Noah knew what had to happen. “Luke, jump now, I’ll be down in a minute,” Noah said calmly, turning Luke to face the ocean.

“What?” Luke asked horrified, fighting against Noah’s arms. “Why aren’t you coming with me?”

“I have to drop the rest of the life boats,” Noah explained patiently, as if the boat itself wasn’t coming down around his ears. “Otherwise people will freeze or capsize the lifeboats already in the water. I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Fuck that,” Luke said, shoving Noah’s arms from around him and sprinting for the next hanging lifeboat. “Now hurry your ass up and help me!” Luke shouted, coughing slightly from the smoke as he reached up to untangle the line holding the boat against the ship. “Or we’re both dead!”

Noah swore but he didn’t disobey. Over the next minute, he and Luke let three more lifeboats drop down into the water, making huge splashes when they hit, but almost immediately filling with jumpers. “Two more!” Noah shouted over the roar of the fire. “We’ll go down in the last one!” Luke shot him a thumbs up to show he heard, but Noah saw that he was barely breathing around the smoke in the air. 

Second to last boat hit the water and Luke stumbled as the boat rocked again, another explosion sending debris into the air, across the deck and out across the water. “Luke!” Noah shouted, snatching Luke by the arm, “C’mon!” Luke nodded weakly, following Noah to the last boat. Noah pressed his forehead to Luke’s, forcing Luke’s brown eyes on his own. “Hold on as tight as you can, okay?” Luke nodded again, his eyes sliding close even as his arms wrapped around Noah, squeezing tightly.

Noah hopped into the last lifeboat and just as one last explosion cracked the deck of the ship violently, he cut the lines of the boat and sent he and Luke careening to the water below, holding tightly to the boat around them. When they hit the water, Noah felt his entire spine shift and barely managed to keep from slamming his head against the edge.

But they were safe.

“Luke, are you alright?” Noah asked, untangling their limbs and settling Luke against the side of the boat, trying to catch his gaze. “You need to breathe for me, nice and deep, okay?” Luke nodded tiredly. “Okay, good.” The second Luke looked as if he could manage himself, Noah transferred his attention to the water around him. The boat rocked a bit as an older, built man pulled himself in, flashing Noah a tired but grateful smile. Noah nodded sharply but found himself completely torn away by the sound of desperate shouts to his right.

“Help, please, I can’t hold him!” At least thirty feet from the boat, a man was struggling to stay above water and simultaneously hold his young son, who looked unconscious. Noah cast one backwards glance at Luke, who seemed to be breathing all right and was talking to a young woman who’d clambered into the boat. Noah took a deep breath and leapt from the boat, sliding into the freezing ocean in a graceful dive, quickly swimming over to the two. “Help me! Help me please!” The man was choking as Noah reached him. It was a bit of a struggle to lift the young boy from the man's arms, but they managed to keep his head above water.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got it,” Noah gasped, trying not to swallow water from the way the man was flailing around. “He’s okay, I’ve got him. Let’s get him to the boat.” The man nodded furiously, treading water far less insanely now, though it was obvious he was not a strong swimmer. Noah swam alongside him, one handed now though, the boy clutched tightly to him. It felt like hours before they reached the boat again, but it was really only a few minutes. There were several more people in the boat who helped pulled the man aboard and who took the child from Noah’s arms.

“Thank you, thank you!” The man was weeping and though Noah tried to smile back at him, the adrenaline rush he’d been running on quickly wore off and left him freezing cold and chattering as he clutched the side of the boat. Several hands were extended to haul him up into the boat too – Luke’s included, but more shouting distracted Noah. He craned his neck to spot a couple clinging to the side of a very full lifeboat – he could even see Paul, pressed up tightly to one side. One older woman in the boat was shouting that they had no more room even as one of the two girls holding on tried to push the other up.

“I’ll be right back,” Noah said up into the faces, his teeth chattering so hard that he thought they might fall out of his head. The water felt so cold that it almost burned as it slid around and through the clothes he was wearing – but he couldn’t think of that right now. He quickly paddled his way over to the nearest lifeboat and treaded water by the two girls. “What’s wrong?” he called over the noise. The girl fighting to get onto the boat turned to him, her eyes red from crying, her red hair tangled and glued to her face.

As she spoke, her words were interrupted by gasping cries and stuttered words – obviously the cold was getting to her too. “They say the lifeboat’s full but they just need to fit one more – my girlfriend’s already sick and she can’t swim and I don’t know what to do! It took me long enough to get her to this boat, and I’m not strong enough to carry her to another.” The girlfriend was also crying, dark hair plastered to her skull, her guilt obvious. Noah forced a smile, trying to pretend like he wasn’t sure his lips were already blue.

“It’ll be alright, I’ll swim your girlfriend over to that boat over there,” he gestured to the boat where Luke was waving his arms furiously. Lifting his arm from the water was nearly impossible as his fingers clenched and shook without any say from his brain – but it was worth it for the way Luke settled down at the acknowledgement. “D’you see it?” The first girl nodded furiously.

“You’ll be okay baby, I’ll see you at that boat, okay?” The brunette nodded, pressed a shaky kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek and wrapped her arms around Noah’s neck.

“You gotta stay relaxed,” Noah warned her, “Try and float as I kick otherwise… never mind. Just stay relaxed.” He’d almost told her that if she panicked they’d probably both sink, but he thought better of it - maybe Luke was rubbing off on him. Noah started paddling, the dark-haired girl obviously trying to stay afloat. It took much longer than it should of, but Noah’s arms were aching and his hands were refusing to form normal shapes and the girl kept half-sinking every time she got nervous. In conclusion, it was a miracle they got back to the boat alive.

When they did, Noah was greeted by the most beautiful sight he’d seen all day – a smiling Luke Snyder.

“Get the hell in this boat Mayer before I kill you,” Luke said hoarsely, letting the rest of the boat attend to getting the non-swimmer girlfriend into the boat. He single handedly pulled the six-foot plus man into the boat, collapsing to the floor the instant Noah’s feet were cleared of the edge. Noah fell against him and even as the couple thanked him tearfully and the rest of the boat cheered for him, he had no inclination to move. “Your hero complex is worrying Mayer,” Luke murmured against his ear, tugging Noah to sit more upright but not moving the gangly man from laying against his body.

“I’m sorry Luke,” Noah wheezed, shivering violently. “For-”

“I know Mayer,” Luke interrupted. “It’s okay. Just breathe, just keep breathing for me, okay?”

Noah coughed in response and that was all was said for several minutes until one of the boats started cheering madly – and before long, other boats were going up in shouts and screams. “Wha-” Noah slurred, so tired he was barely able to open his eyes, but realizing something big was happening.

“Mayer, Mayer,” Luke said, shaking the barely conscious bodyguard as much as he felt safe. “You did it, we’re all okay, you saved us, we’ll all be okay.” Luke craned his neck into the distance and the sight settled into his stomach with deep satisfaction. “The rescue boat is here. We’re gonna be okay.” Luke’s hand clenched in Mayer’s soaked hair, unashamed to be clutching him tight.

-

The rescue boat treated all of the passengers for hypothermia and possibly pneumonia, but the casualties had been few and far between. Those who were aware enough when the boat docked claimed it was all because of a pair of men who’d helped sort out the chaos and a father and two girls claimed that they’d been saved by a blue-eyed man, but by the time they got around to unloading passengers and checking IDs against the official guest list, no such people could be found.

Noah had insisted that he and Luke escape the boat before the rush and before they could be marked as alive. His reasoning (that if Damian’s enemies wanted to kill them, then pretending to be dead was probably the safest route) made complete sense to Luke, so the first second they were left alone, they snuck down the gangplank and hit solid ground for the first time in over a week.

“Praise every god and deity out there. Whoever the hell made the ground so steady has my eternal gratitude and devotion,” Luke murmured as he and Noah stumbled down the sidewalk. Luke’s voice was raspy from inhaling so much smoke and Noah was so exhausted he could hardly walk straight, but they were both alive and neither could fault the other for that. The first motel they found was completely packed with the healthiest of the ship’s passengers who’d escaped first, so Luke and Noah stumbled several more blocks until they nearly felt through the front door and into the lobby of possibly the sketchiest motel ever.

“Oh, this is nice,” Luke said in a voice that made Noah want to burst into laughter and roll around on the floor wheezing. God, he must be  _really_ tired. Luke dragged him to the front desk, which looked as if it would fall apart any second now. Noah didn’t dare lean on it, so he swayed side to side, his balance completely shot.

“ _Skuzi, ghandi bzonn kamra_ ,” Luke asked the desk clerk tiredly, holding up one finger for one room. Noah perked up slightly – he’d never heard Luke speak Maltese – he usually resorted to Italian if they bumped into someone who was heading home to Malta. “ _Lejl wieħed, per favore_ ,” Luke said, slipping into Italian at the end, too tired to stumble over the tongue twister that was ‘ _please_ ’ in Maltese just to tell the clerk 'one night'.

The clerk barely blinked, merely tapped at something in the computer and handed over a key. She told Luke a number – Noah recognized that much – and Luke nodded, opening his soaking wet wallet and pulling out the type of currency that no freezing cold water could ever destroy – a credit card. She took it, swiped it, made Luke sign and then handed it back – all without speaking. “ _Grazzi_ ,” Luke muttered, gesturing awkwardly before grabbing Noah’s arm and stumbling to the elevator.

They rode up in silence and both pretended to ignore the fact that they tended to gravitate towards each other. By the end of the elevator ride, six floors in total, they were shoulder to shoulder and simultaneously wondering exactly who was keeping whom up.

All their movements were sluggish and it took them a full minute to decipher the sign right outside the elevator instructing them which way to turn depending on their room number. The sign was all numbers and arrows, no Maltese, but Noah’s mind was not functioning at its highest point right now and Luke could not determine which number on the keycard was their room number. They finally stumbled their way to their door where Luke failed miserably at opening the lock about five times before the door finally gave way.

Fortunately, the hotel room itself did not mirror the same disconcerting atmosphere of the lobby. It was decent looking – at least livable. There was a TV and a bathroom and a side table – and one king sized bed.

Noah felt sick to his stomach for a second – he was so not awake enough for this. Fortunately Luke shoved him hard and sent him sprawling across one side of the bed. “Stick to your side and everything will be fine,” Luke said firmly, not necessarily believing his own words. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

The last thought that the barely conscious Noah-mind clung to as he fell fast asleep was this:  _wonder what waking up beside Luke will be like._

-

“Sir, the boat  _exploded_ ,” Noah repeated tersely, pacing the floor of the hotel room, still a little unsteady on his feet. He had gone out that morning to purchase a disposable phone, knowing that both he and Luke would have to check in – especially since news of their possible deaths might eventually reach the States. Luke had gone first, calling and telling Damian that they would be a couple days behind schedule, half-hoping his biological father would own up and admit that there was no ambassadorial duties to be performed, but Damian just assured Luke that his work in Malta was not time-sensitive and not to worry.

Luke’s family back home was next and fortunately, for time and patience’s sake, his father picked up the phone. According to Holden, he was the only one around the farm for the next few hours – Luke could not have picked a better time to call and inform his family that he’d almost died. Holden was appropriately horrified and demanded to know when Luke would return home– as he did nearly every conversation he and Luke shared.

For the first time in three years, Luke found himself answering, “Soon Dad, soon.”

But now it was Mayer’s turn, calling the Colonel, his own father, to inform him that he’d almost died. Luke anticipated a brusque conversation – from what Mayer had told him, his father was less than affectionate, but he did at least expect some worry or concern.

Luke listened to the one-sided conversation with hunched shoulders, wincing as he heard Mayer’s voice become stiffer and blanker. The Colonel did not let up, ranting for several minutes about Mayer’s lack of dedication and complete cowardice. Luke wanted to scream as Mayer just sat there and took it. “Yes sir, I understand but-” Mayer continued, pausing in front of the bed Luke was sitting on. “No sir, I don’t-” There was a long pause and the hotel room was silent enough that Luke could make out the other end of the conversation:

Y _ou’ve fucked over the whole timeline! You’re a worthless excuse for a man and a terrible agent. Couldn’t you do this right? You’re a terrible son, soldier. I expected better of you._

Luke wanted to stand up and snatch the phone right out of Mayer’s hand and either toss it out the window and start ranting into it to tell the Colonel on the other line to just shut the hell up about his Mayer, because they didn’t know jack shit. Mayer was smart and attractive and funny and kind and interesting and sometimes a closed off pain in the ass – he didn’t deserve to be treated like that! 

And  _suddenly_ , a lot of things Mayer said made sense – as did his determination to make sure he got Luke to Malta. Failure didn’t seem like an option in the Mayer family.

“Yes sir, of course sir,” Mayer replied dully, having listened to his father’s whole rant with his hand clenching the phone, his knuckles nearly white in fury. There was an audible click a half second later and Mayer flinched. “Goodbye sir,” he muttered, pulling the cell away from his ear to stare at it. Luke sat perfectly still, watching the emotions rain across Mayer’s face – uncertainty and anger and doubt and shame and guilt and disgust. He didn’t dare disturb the bodyguard so he merely waited.

All of a sudden, in a movement so fast that Luke barely had time to react, Noah pitched the phone across the room. The crack of the plastic case was audible and Luke jumped slightly, startled, but not enough to keep quiet.

“Mayer?” he ventured quietly. Mayer kept staring at the opposite wall as if he hadn’t heard him. There was a dark mark there, thanks to the cell phone, but Luke was pretty sure that wasn’t what Mayer was staring at. In fact, he was pretty sure he wasn’t staring at anything at all.

“He said I was a worthless excuse for a man, never mind an agent. He said,” Noah said tightly, “that I’m a  _terrible son_.” He looked at Luke, who just stared back at him with big brown eyes that saw too much. “If only he knew,” Noah murmured bitterly, his gaze pinned on Luke. Luke could hardly breathe or move.

“Knew what?” he asked Mayer hoarsely.

“If only he knew just how bad of a son I am,” Noah repeated slowly, hesitantly, his eyes still on Luke. “What… what I really want.” He swallowed hard and Luke followed the motion with his gaze before his eyes were forcibly dragged back up to meet Mayer’s. “What really matters.”

Luke was breathless; Noah could see it in the way he was frozen in place, just staring back at him.

“What do you want?” asked Luke carefully, slowly, as if Mayer should be walked around as if on eggshells. “Tell me what you want.”

Noah wet his lips, the room suddenly far too dry to be having this conversation in.

“I want…” Noah started hoarsely, “I want things I shouldn’t want.”

“Who says?” Luke said suddenly and fiercely. “Who says you shouldn’t?”

“I don’t deserve them,” Noah admitted, and he believed that he’d never said a truer thing.

“You deserve  _everything_ ,” Luke jabbed Mayer sternly in his chest. “You deserve it all and more and all you have to do is ask.” Luke’s gaze was intense even as his voice softened, the intimate tone tearing down at Noah’s mental walls. “Please ask.  _Please_.”

Noah broke apart at the first please.

“Can I,” he started, closing his eyes against the rush of _shamelovehurtlustterroraffection_ that threatened to overwhelm him. Luke’s hand caressed his jaw and his eyes flew open of their own volition. “Can I have you?” he whispered brokenly.

Theoretically, Noah knew that he could not have Luke. Luke was not his for the taking – Noah knew he did not deserve someone like Luke. His life had never been such that he’d ever been lucky enough to own anything as precious as Luke’s heart.

But Luke’s eyes were glistening and his smile was gorgeous and bright and his voice was saying, “You can have me.” So for once in his life, Noah believed in something impossible. He mouthed for a long moment, trying to find the words that had yet to fail him tonight, but nothing came. He just stared at Luke, wondering just how long forever was and if it would ever be long enough, wondering whether his father would ever understand the hope and the fear coursing through him, wondering if tonight would be it.

“What’s wrong?” Luke murmured, his eyes trained on Noah’s lips, before darting back up to his eyes. 

 _Everything_ , Noah’s mind shouted.

“Nothing,” Noah’s mouth and heart whispered back. The kiss was soft and hesitant and everything Noah would have never associated with Luke. Luke was certainty and confidence and bravado and strong features and lean lines and… this kiss was not what Noah had been expecting.

But it was better than anything he’d ever imagined.

Luke pressed close to him, making a soft vulnerable sound that hit Noah hard, leaving him breathless. Luke burned hot, far hotter than Noah had anticipated. He was unafraid of crowding Noah’s space and filling Noah’s senses with his scent and warmth and everything Noah associated with Luke and only Luke.

Freshly cut grass, sunshine, honey – Luke smelled like summer. He smelled like the happiest times Noah had ever known, as if telling his brain happier times were to come. And everything in Noah wanted to trust that feeling, wanted to envelop himself in it and breathe it all in and just believe it for once – believe in something other than what his father told him. Luke believed in him and more than anything he wanted to believe in Luke.

The first kiss became two and two became three until Noah could no longer differentiate between the previous and the next, until time itself unwound and settled languidly over their shoulders. For once Noah was unconcerned with the next step and the next plan and just wrapped himself around the here and now.

“Luke,” Noah said wonderingly, his fingers tracing Luke’s jaw line and the tip of his ear, pieces of Luke he’d stared at and imagined the touch of – but this was real. Blue eyes caressed every curve of Luke’s mouth that his hands ached to touch before settling on wide-open brown eyes that peered back. “Is this…” he started, embarrassed to hear his voice crack, like a boy just hitting puberty. He cleared his throat and spoke again, though he had to admit that the rough torn edge to his voice made him sound no less nervous. “Is this okay?”

And Luke just looked at him, a smile hovering on his lips, his eyes bright and huge and beautiful and Noah couldn’t help but kiss him again because even though Luke hadn’t spoken, his eyes were saying  _yes_  and Noah was powerless against them. Noah’s lips dipped down Luke’s neck, unable to keep himself from exploring more of the body he’d been so careful in not thinking about.

“M-Mayer,” Luke choked on the word as Noah’s teeth grazed his pulse. Something in Noah seized at the sound of his last name – only ever his last name, only ever the piece of him that was his dad, never just him, never just… – and he pulled away. “Wha-at?” Luke sounded confused and a little distraught as he tried to fight through the haze of lust he was surrounded by. “Is something wrong?”

Noah stared at him for a long moment, absorbing every inch of the face before him. “My name is Noah,” he said quietly. “I’m Noah.” Luke gaped at him for a moment before his face lit up, his eyes wide and warm. Noah tried and failed to swallow around the lump that appeared in his throat. Luke’s smile in that moment left him speechless and weak in the knees. His fingers itched to trace the soft bow of Luke’s lips and the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes, but he settled for curling them around Luke’s pale wrists, tracing the soft skin there gently.

“Hello Noah,” Luke murmured, his tone somehow affectionate and reverent and tender all at once. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Noah attempted uselessly to bite down on the shudder that slid down his spine at the sound of his name in Luke’s mouth. His father had only ever called him son since he’d started working for the family business. Hearing Luke’s lips form his name was the first time he’d heard the sound in years. And it broke him wide open – far, far too wide open for his own good. If this ended, if this didn’t go well, if he actually started thinking about what he was doing and who he was doing it with… well then,  _shit_  – Luke had torn him much too wide open to even think about piecing it all back together. He hesitated for a split second and then-

“Noah,” Luke murmured, his name somehow already familiar on lips Noah had only just begun to learn. All of his hesitation melted away and he ducked his head to claim Luke’s breath for his own.

Luke was responsive in a way that Noah was certain no one else in the world was. He whined and whimpered and arched and stretched, hands everywhere, hair fanned out around him. Every touch of Noah’s generated a new reaction and Noah took a certain amount of glee in discovering what actions made what sounds. A kiss here, a nibble there – it was like a puzzle, and one that Noah didn’t mind spending hours pouring over. 

They lost their shirts, shoes and socks in the ensuing chaos and Noah grunted at the feel of warm skin on his.

He dipped his head to mouth at one of the collarbones that had been tempting him for so long. 

“N-Noah,” Luke gasped and Noah groaned.  _God_ , that had to be the hottest sound he’d ever heard. “Noah,  _please_ ,” Luke begged and Noah amended that statement immediately, returning with enthusiasm to devour Luke’s mouth. 

It was a little clumsy and not the most elegant of kisses, except for the low, near-purring noises Luke made into his mouth. There was barely enough room between them for Noah to get anything of real importance accomplished, but he managed to get a hand between the two of them, nearly catching his fingers in the zipper, nearly moaning when he felt the heat of Luke against him, but eventually succeeding in getting them one step further in the quest to undress. Luke moaned when Noah’s fingers brushed against him and Noah half-moaned in reply –  _holy shit_. Noah had to break away from their kiss to regain some sort of equilibrium, having lost all sense of up and down.

"I've never..." Noah fumbled a second later, words awkward on his lips, "With a guy." He flushed immediately after the words escaped, hoping that this would not be the moment where Luke would snort with laughter and leave him behind, scoffing at his inexperience. Luke's voice was soft but steady when he responded.

"I've never... with  _anyone_ ," he murmured, tilting his head slightly to catch Noah's gaze. Noah's breath caught and suddenly the room was twenty degrees hotter than before. He felt as if he should be more surprised at how much the satisfaction of being  _first_  appealed to him, but he was already intimately familiar with the jealous roaring in his ears thanks to a certain handsy steward. But this was different. Noah swallowed hard, feeling a rush of affection for the man beneath him who admitted so handily to being a virgin.  _Brave, fearless Luke,_ his mind reminded him. _Think he'll be like that in bed?_

At that thought, Noah flushed an even deeper red, but could not explain to Luke why his ears were now burning. He mouthed hopelessly for a moment before taking a deep breath and settling his mind and hands were they should be - on Luke.

He settled down between Luke’s thighs, hands trembling as they traced the waistband of his boxers. Luke seemed to understand Noah’s trepidation, because he tugged Noah down towards him and they just kissed for awhile – as though  _just_  was a proper adjective for this kind of kissing, the long, hot, drawn out and breathless sharing of breath and tongues.

Noah felt like he was falling apart, losing all track of his arms and legs – extremities forgotten in the inferno blazing between he and Luke. Oblivion felt so close, his happiness almost obscene as he fell into Luke, surrendering all consciousness to feeling.

The last vestiges of clothing were removed and suddenly it was too hot in the room to breathe and Noah found himself gasping against Luke’s skin, feeling every inch of Luke pressed against every inch of  _him_. He hesitated, which seemed to be the cue for Luke to take over – he flipped Noah onto his back with a quiet  _oof_  and smirked from his perch atop Noah’s thighs.

“I know this is all new to you Noah,” Luke said softly, his hands tracing smooth shapes down his chest, pausing and pinching as they drifted, driving Noah almost to the brink of distraction. “But I’ve been dreaming about this for a very,  _very_  long time,” Luke said with a smile that Noah could only describe as wicked.

Noah’s embarrassing admission of: “Me too,” was swallowed up in a mind blowing kiss, which then proceeded to completely  _melt_  his brain when Luke took Noah in hand and stroked firmly. Noah bucked up into the grip, rubbing firmly against the body above him. Luke groaned loudly and rearranged his grip to fit both of them, stroking with determination and finesse. 

“Ah, ah,” Noah shuddered, shaking as his hands grasped for purchase in the gray sheets. Finally one hand clasped Luke’s shoulder tightly and drew him down towards Noah for a kiss and a warning: “You keep that up and this will be over very soon,” Noah said firmly, even though every inch of his skin tingled and his mind teetered on the edge of the void.

“Sorry,” Luke breathed, not sounding very sorry at all.

Noah flipped them again, taking control once again and feeling a little better for it. “Do we have…” Noah trailed of, unable to keep his hands from drifting lower, touching and caressing Luke, prompting a hitched breath and clenched hands from Luke, who nodded quickly. 

“My wallet,” Luke muttered and Noah ducked off the bed to grab Luke’s jeans, pulling the slightly wrinkled condom from the wet wallet. “Still good,” Luke joked, breathlessly, Noah’s unoccupied hand having gone back to tracing soft words into the pale skin of Luke’s open thighs.

“But what about-” Noah continued awkwardly, but Luke pointed to the wallet again and Noah withdrew another packet, flushing to his ears. “This still good too?” he joked lamely, but Luke’s desperate, wild nod made it all much less funny and so much hotter.

“Noah, please,” Luke begged and Noah was helpless to do anything but oblige. His hands drifted between Luke’s thighs, finding the spot that Noah had only really thought about while he was alone in the shower, sure that Luke wasn’t going to be stumbling into their shared bathroom anytime soon. “Touch m-me,” Luke stuttered when Noah finally brushed against the opening, pressing firmly with one slicked finger.

“Is this okay?” Noah muttered, his mouth pressed against Luke’s bent knee, “Tell me this is okay Luke,” he said desperately, eager to keep going even though he’d been groping through the dark so far with all of this.

“It’s good, it’s good,” Luke panted, “Keep going.” So with confidence he didn’t feel, Noah continued his firm but gentle exploration of Luke, pressing in deeply with first one finger and then another, stretching him and trying not to listen to the growing moans and whines of the beautiful body beneath him. And then Noah brushed something and Luke’s moans became a “Holy shit, yes Noah, that, there!” Noah smirked to himself – he could do this, he could totally do this. He brushed that spot again and Luke gasped like he couldn’t find enough air to breathe, with the only word escaping Noah’s name - which made Noah feel like all the oxygen had left the room.

By sound alone, Luke was driving him closer and closer to the edge until finally Noah withdrew his hand and crawled up to take Luke’s lips with his. “Please Luke,” Noah begged desperately. “Let me, please.” Luke could only nod furiously against his lips, his limbs too weak to help in anyway.

Noah didn’t mind - tugging Luke’s legs open to allow him the closeness he was aching for sent a quick thrill down his spine. In fact, Luke didn’t seem to mind his manhandling much either if the choked gasp he let out was any indication – Noah smiled at the thought and his mouth spoke before his mind had fully wrapped itself around the words.

“Do you like that?” Noah said gruffly, ducking his head to let his lips brush softly against Luke’s ear. “Me holding you down?” Luke squeaked in response but nodded, clutching at the sheets below. Noah had to let out a long, slow breath and think of ugly old women before the thought of a pliant, obedient Luke at his disposal sent him over the edge.

“Please Noah, touch me,” Luke gasped, rolling his hips and bringing Noah’s attention back to the matter at hand. Noah nudged Luke’s hips, lifting him easily to slide a pillow under his back, smiling at the approving noise Luke made at the action.

Noah ducked his head to murmur senseless platitudes in Luke’s ear as he lined up his hips and slowly, carefully pressed in. Luke made a noise of discomfort and Noah froze, suddenly terrified he’d ruined everything.

“No, no!” Luke gasped, “Don’t stop, j-just, go slow,” Noah hesitantly nodded but did as Luke asked, slowly pushing until they were pressed right up against each other. He waited, extending every bit of his not inconsiderable amount of self-control to keep from shifting even an inch. Hurting Luke was the last thing he wanted and if he had to sit here for another hour while he waited for Luke t-

“Noah,” Luke gasped, “Move  _now_.”

Or he could move now.

Noah moved slowly at first, thrusting gently into the tight heat that made him want to lose his mind. “I-I can’t… god Luke, you feel so good.” Luke made a noise deep in his throat, wordless in pleasure. Noah dug his knees deeper into the mattress, trying to get a different angle and all of a sudden, Luke’s voice slipped up two octaves and he was clawing at Noah’s back, trying to get him closer, deeper,  _more_.

“N-noah,” Luke gasped, and Noah felt a rush of satisfaction and rocked again, firmly, confidently and Luke gasped again. Soon they were thrusting and pulling, falling together without any rhythm but too close to the edge to care.

“Noah,” Luke choked out, “I-I-I-” Noah thrust forward, hard, craning his head to catch Luke’s lips with his own. That sent Luke tearing over the edge which in turn sent Noah falling right after him.

They panted together for a long moment before Noah slowly withdrew, tying off the condom and kissing away the crease that formed in Luke’s forehead at the discomfort. “That was…” Noah started and stopped, his words – as usual – failing him completely. “Thank you,” he murmured instead against Luke’s forehead, pressing a soft kiss there and at his temple and on the tip of his ear.

Luke seemed perfectly content to let Noah do the rest of the work as he curled into Noah’s side, clinging tightly and making soft, sweet noises that went straight to Noah’s heart. They lay together, taking quiet comfort in the weight and warmth of the other, trying not to let their real lives interfere with the world they’d created here.

But real life couldn’t stay away for too long.

“You have a choice to make Noah,” Luke said into the dark and Noah’s heart stuttered. He didn’t reply, but merely held on to Luke tighter, afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth – or even more likely, what he might not say.

He clutched Luke close, burying his nose in Luke’s hair, clenching his eyes tight against the feelings that flooded him. “I love you, you know,” Luke continued, his voice completely lacking any accusation or blame. “I know what this means for you.”

 _No you don’t!_ Noah wanted to shout. This thing they had was life altering, world ending and what scared Noah most was that he wanted it – he wanted it all and he wanted it without hesitation. But he was going to lose everything if he did this. Never mind his job, means of survival, reputation and contacts – he was going to lose his father.

“I know what’s running through your head right now,” Luke murmured, shifting so that his eyes were level with Noah’s, his breath hot against Noah’s lips. “But take my advice?” Noah tensed, simultaneously terrified and hopeful that Luke would tell him what to do.

“Think about it in the morning,” Luke finished, a soft, sad smile on his lips. Noah stared wonderingly at this man before him and felt his heart swell. “Okay?” Luke breathed, his gaze suddenly uncertain.

“Okay,” Noah murmured, drawing Luke even closer to him. “Okay.” His lips rested at Luke’s temple, fingers doodling idly on smooth skin until he felt sleep claim him. He could wait till morning – he could do that for Luke.

He woke early the next morning – he could tell by the dim light that filtered through the shades, a warm yellow that he stared into, trying to ignore the thoughts that crowded for attention at the front of his mind. Instead, as he watched the tiny particles of dust drift through the morning light, Noah breathed in deeply. The combined scents of both he and Luke filled the air, inescapable and heavy. Rather than terrifying the hell out of him, like he had always thought it would, Noah felt something in his chest unclench. Breathing came easier with Luke’s warm, comforting weight at his side.

Luke had said that he had a choice in front of him – and he’d said it without reproach or judgment. On one hand there was his father’s approval and love and everything Noah had worked towards for years – but on the other… everything he had ever wanted. Someone whose love wasn’t conditional, wasn’t based on obedience and performing tricks like some circus animal. Luke loved him –  _him_! he could hardly believe it – because he was Noah. What Noah could hardly believe was that  _this_  Noah – the Noah he let himself be around Luke – was the Noah he’d always wanted to be. Luke’s love made it possible, made him capable of being someone he had only ever dreamed of becoming.

He was the Real Noah Mayer and he was kind of, maybe, sort of…  _pretty great._

There was a shift beside him and Noah’s gaze lowered to peer at the tufts of blonde hair that stuck up above the sheets. A hysterical bubble of laughter fought its way up, but Noah pushed it back down. He was giddy and incandescently happy while simultaneously being scared shitless. Was this what love was, all the time? He was so happy that breathing was becoming an issue. It was as if his lungs couldn’t fill up around the giant lump that was his pounding heart.

[“Morning,” he murmured to the dusky gold head, one hand hesitating before finally brushing some of the hair down into some semblance of order and carding his fingers through the long strands.](http://s1017.photobucket.com/albums/af297/aoleander/?action=view&current=NukeBigBang-CouldIRestMyFaithInTher.jpg)

There was a purring, contented sound that floated up from under the covers. “’eep doin tha,” Luke slurred. “S’feels ‘mazing.” Noah grinned. His choice was no choice at all. Faced with the decision of his father’s approval or waking up to Luke for the rest of his life, Noah barely blinked twice.

“You know how I asked if I could have you?” Noah murmured, sliding down to brush his lips against Luke’s ear. He felt Luke tense, suddenly more awake than he had been a moment ago. When he didn’t answer, Noah prodded, “Well, do you?”

“How could I forget?” Luke exhaled.

“Well, I have another question for you,” Noah whispered again, his fingers drifting from Luke’s hair to his chin to his chest to over his heart, where they settled there with finality. 

“Yeah?” Luke asked, breathless.

Noah’s nose brushed against soft, gold curls as he shifted so he and Luke were face to face, Noah hanging over him. “Can I keep you?” he asked softly, not wanting to break the spell that had fallen.

Luke’s spellbinding smile was more than enough answer, but the kiss that followed, in which Noah lost all sense of time and space, made it pretty clear too.

-

“Dad, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Noah heard his father on the other end go perfectly still. Even on a good day, his words would have been greeted with a formal reprimand and possibly a suspension. _Mayers don’t give up. Mayers aren’t pussies. Mayers don’t fail._

Except at being good sons, whispered a voice in the back of Noah’s mind that sounded suspiciously like his father’s.  _No_ , Noah shouted back.  _I am a good son, I am a good person, I’m not a failure!_

 _How do you know?_  asked the sneaking, terrible voice, spreading invisible fingers across his mind, plucking at his insecurities expertly. Noah struggled in the silence before landing on an answer that trumped all.

 _Because Luke said so,_ Noah thought firmly.  _Luke said I was perfect._

Just thinking the words made it hard to breathe.

“And just what might that news be?” came the reply, his father’s tone deadly calm – a dangerous sign, for sure.

“I won’t be completing the assignment given to me,” Noah said, his voice somehow miraculously steady even as his knees quaked and his hand shook violently. “We will not be reaching Malta.”

The silence was deafening. Noah could almost picture his father, red-faced and perfectly calm, contemplating his gun with narrowed eyes.

“Do tell,” his father bit out.

Noah breathed – the air in his lungs seemed far too thin at the moment. His heart felt six sizes too big for his chest as it pounded away frantically, somehow still supplying blood to his body even as it burst out of his chest. His tongue and airways had swollen to enormous sizes, his knees were jelly, his hands were numb, his stomach had twisted itself into an unrecognizable shape and his eyes were pinched shut – he was positive he would never speak again.

“Well?” his father snapped. “I don’t have time for this son.”

And in that moment, Noah remembered what it sounded like to hear his name - what it sounded like when someone who loved you said your name – and all of a sudden, he could breathe again.

“Dad, I’m gay.” Noah plowed through. “Luke and I are together and we won’t be going to Malta.”

There was silence and Noah stood perfectly still, the phone sweaty and hot in his hand. He had nothing more to say – all that was left was his father’s response, though Noah could predict almost down to the letter what his father would say in reply to his admission.

“Son,” his father began a long moment later.

 _Noah_ , Alternate Noah begged. My name is Noah. I am more than your son, I am more than a carbon copy of you. I am me and myself and just Noah Mayer, my  _own_  Noah Mayer. But Real Noah stayed silent. One step at a time.

“Son, this is ridiculous, what the hell has that brat done to you?” There was disbelief and confusion and a hint of anger. “He’s tricked you, confused you.”

Noah could only speak the truth now, and it was tumbling out of his mouth before he could even form the words in his mind. “When I’m with Luke, it’s the only time I’m not confused. I know what I want. I know who I am.”

“Who you are?” There was no confusion this time around as his father snapped at him. “You’re a Mayer, you’re a man – not, not… not some  _fag_.”

Noah hadn’t realized that there was a piece of him that had still loved his father. A piece of him that ached for approval, a piece of him that hoped that maybe, just, possibly once his father would notice him, accept him – but not love. He hadn’t realized there was a part of him that still held out for actual compassion from the Colonel, but he supposed that there must have been because he could feel it crumble to dust at the pure disgust in his father’s voice. A red haze settled over Noah’s brain and he felt himself closing off – becoming the version of himself he hadn’t quite been since meeting Luke that first day.

“I’m a man  _and_  a fag Dad,” Noah stated coolly, “Funny how that works out.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that boy!” his father barked out. “I’m your father and you owe me your respect!”

“I don’t owe you anything Dad!” Noah shouted back. “Not a goddamn thing!”

There was a long pause where Noah was almost too scared to breathe. As much as he had been dying gradually on the inside, waiting to say things like this to his father, he was terrified of the long term outcome.

“You will return home immediately son,” his father said softly, his words carefully measured. “You will return home and we will find you help. I will send another agent out to fix your utter failure and we will never speak of this again.”

“No,” Noah said, his voice hoarse – though whether from shouting or fear, he didn’t know. “No, that’s not what’s going to happen,” he replied slowly, cautiously.

And then the Colonel went off.

“Once I get my hands on that faggot who did this to you, I’m going to fucking slit his throat!” his father roared and Noah stopped breathing.

“You fucking touch him and I’ll kill you!” Noah snarled viciously. “I swear to god I will kill you where you stand!” With that he snapped his phone shut, barely able to breathe over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. He felt like he’d just run a marathon underwater – he couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen to his lungs.

“Noah, Noah – breathe with me, breathe,” came a voice softly from behind him, warm hands wrapping around his waist and shoulder to rest over his stomach and chest. Luke’s left hand settled firmly over Noah’s pounding heart as if counting the beats to ensure they were still there. “Breathe in, breathe out,” Luke murmured in his ear, distracting Noah enough to disrupt his current hyperventilating breathing pattern and send him into deep gasps.

“I’m sorry Luke,” he wheezed. “You shouldn’t have heard any of that.” Noah hated the idea that Luke might be scared of him, might see him as a monster now for threatening to kill his own father.

But one thing Noah knew for sure was that his father was never going to lay a hand on Luke as long as Noah had breath in his body. Which might not be for much longer considering the way Noah was going about gaining his oxygen right now.

“I can’t, I can’t-” Noah gasped, air coming in short supply, his heart too keyed up to listen to him telling it to calm the fuck down.

“Noah, listen to me,” Luke said firmly in his ear. “You’re going to be fine but you have to start breathing normally. Breathe in with me…now!” Luke took a deep breath, filling his chest enough that Noah could feel it against his back, forcing his body to follow suit. “And out,” Luke added, pressing firmly on Noah’s stomach, slowly. “In, and out, in and out…” They did this several more times and Noah felt his heart manage a normal tempo again. “There we go, there you are,” Luke murmured comfortingly, rubbing his hand in gentle circles over his stomach and heart. “How are you?”

Noah took a moment to catalogue everything he was feeling, tossing out his father’s disapproval and his panic and everything unimportant and concentrated solely on the one thing that tore at every piece of his mind – his father wanted to kill Luke. And there was no way in hell that was going to happen.

Noah gazed at the screen of the laptop, the confirmation email for the tickets to Oakdale open.  _Too easy,_  a part of Noah said.  _Way too easy to find you._  Noah had to admit that this was true. His father was not going to take this lightly and considering the job that Noah had been hired for, he was just as certain that Damian Grimaldi would not take the kidnapping of his son calmly.

“What’s next?” Luke ventured, unwilling to disturb Noah from his silent brainstorm, but too curious to remain silent. Noah took a deep breath and grimaced, turning in Luke’s arms and raising one hand to a jawline that was slowly becoming beautifully familiar under his fingertips.

“I’m sorry Luke,” he breathed, “But we can’t go home just yet.”

As much as Oakdale wasn’t home for Noah, it was everything and more for Luke and Noah knew it. He’d seen the pure joy on Luke’s face when he’d made the original ticket booking, he’d known that Luke’s love for his family was the only thing that kept him going some days. Noah could admit at least to himself that he’d give anything to be able to take Luke back to Illinois – but with their fathers inevitably hunting them down, Noah knew they’d have to be smarter than that.

Noah proceeded to purchase three more sets of tickets for various random places across the United States. One set for Florida, boarding that afternoon. One set for New York, taking off early tomorrow morning. And the last set for Texas, scheduled to leave at around ten that night.

Luke watched him work in silence and Noah’s heart sunk with every minute that passed without comment from the usually talkative blond.  _I’m sorry,_  Noah called in his head. “Luke,” he said instead, his voice unsteady as he turned to take in the figure sitting on the motel bed. “Luke, I…” Before he could continue, Luke cleared his throat and stood, padding softly over to the desk chair where Noah was slumped.

“I’ve never seen Dallas before,” Luke offered quietly, reaching out to smooth an errant dark curl off of Noah’s forehead, his fingers trailing to trace the curve of Noah’s ear before caressing the line of his jaw. The relief that flooded through Noah was almost enough to knock him out of his chair. Instead he just turned his gaze up towards Luke, knowing he probably looked stupidly tender as his eyes drank in the sight of the only person in the world Noah trusted right now.

“Thank you,” he muttered gruffly, taking Luke’s wandering hand in one of his own and squeezing. “I promise I’ll get you home soon,” Noah swore a second later, his gaze not leaving Luke’s. Though small, the pleased smile Noah got in return did more to raise his spirits than anything else could have.

- 

As patient as Noah was, airports were possibly one of his least favorite places in the entire universe. It was the people, Noah decided as they traveled mind-bendingly slowly through the security line. It was the babies wailing and the people coughing and the couples arguing and the children screeching. It was as if airports were specifically designed to bring out the worst in everyone.

Everyone except Luke apparently.

Noah didn’t get it – Luke was one of the most impatient and active people he had ever met. Waiting in lines for hours should have been hell for him, especially surrounded by what seemed to be the most annoying cross-section of the world. But instead, Luke seemed to thrive on being surrounded by people, cheerfully chatting to the couple behind them in Italian – since, he had informed them with a gracefully sheepish smile, his Maltese was less than stellar.

“ _So where are you and your boyfriend headed to?_ ” asked the woman, tucking mousy brown hair behind her ear and eyeing both Luke and Noah with a smile. Luke first glanced at Noah, as if unsure of which bit of the question Noah might object to. Noah smiled slightly, tucking Luke’s hand into his with a definitive air and hiding a stupid grin at the way Luke’s eyes lit up and softened as their fingers tangled together.

“ _He doesn’t know yet,_ ” Noah said, recognizing that coming out to strangers but not telling them their destination was kind of screwed up, but he was not willing to jeopardize their escape in anyway. “ _It’s a surprise._ ” The woman cooed and awed over them, the man smiling stiffly, but genuinely.

They finally made it to the head of the line, Noah teasing Luke about managing to fill nearly two bins despite having barely any possessions. Except cash – they’d both withdrawn obscene amounts of cash at the Malta airport, the last place either of their fathers would be sure of their location.

“Hush you,” Luke muttered, elbowing Noah in the ribs before strutting calmly through the metal detector, casting a glance over his shoulder as if to say watching, were you? Noah snorted and followed him through – like he probably would be doing for the rest of his life, and gladly.

Noah’s only regret later down the line is not noticing someone watching them head to their gate, noting their plane number, departure time and destination with careful, casual deliberation. 

-

The flight was interminably long, made even longer by the small children who ran amuck up and down the long aisles of the Boeing 747. Every time Noah mimed tripping one, Luke snorted into his hand and slapped Noah on the chest. “They’re not that bad,” Luke insisted, even as one kid went screeching past them, trailing peanut butter covered fingers on all the nearest seats. Fortunately he missed Noah’s, or Luke was sure there would be a pretzel shaped six-year old soon.

“Really?” Noah asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Really,” Luke repeated, sliding closer to his bodyguard-turned-whatever he was now-turned-partner in crime, brown eyes locked on his blue. Noah seemed incapable of looking away, Luke crowed inwardly, but found that all thoughts fled his head the moment Noah’s lips touched his own.

The kiss was quick and gentle, just a slight brushing of lips against lips, but that didn’t stop the man across the aisle from muttering something nasty under his breath. 

Noah froze and Luke paled –  _he_  had dealt with bigotry for years, having been unwilling to hide or change who he was just because of politics. But this was new for Noah, he’d never had to face down an ignorant asshole in the street who objected to the way you talked, walked, dressed, or held hands with another man.

 _Oh god, don’t let me lose him over something like this,_  Luke begged.

Noah’s eyes had left Luke’s the moment the guy had spoken. He slowly pulled away from Luke, prompting Luke to hold on tighter, clenching his fists in Noah’s shirt. “No,” he whispered sharply. “Don’t pull away.” Noah finally settled his gaze back on Luke and Luke was so relieved to see rage there.

“That guy deserves to be punched for what he said!” Noah hissed, his hands going to Luke’s. “Let me punch him.” Luke shook his head, even as his insides flooded with relief.

“He’s not worth it Noah,” Luke murmured. “You and me? We’re worth it. But not him.” Noah remained unconvinced and Luke was hesitant to leave it at that – but all of a sudden, a small voice came from the seat across from him.

“What’s wrong Daddy?” asked the rude man’s son. “Why are you so angry?” Noah and Luke both turned to shamelessly wait for the man’s answer. He glanced up and saw them both watching and glared fiercely.

“Some people here are being disgusting,” he said sharply. The boy, who was perched in his father’s lap, peered over to look at Luke and Noah, who looked at him right back.

“What, those two boys over there? What’d they do?” the boy asked, curiosity overriding all instincts to stay away from a topic that got his father so upset. “Did they curse?”

“No Matteo, something much worse than cursing,” the father said, looking down at his son with something like disappointment. “They kissed and that’s wrong.”

Luke sucked in air sharply through his teeth, every cell in his body telling him to speak up and speak up now. He was still grasping Noah’s shirt in one hand and he could feel the man tense beneath his fingers – but what could they do?

“They kissed?” The boy asked, sounding confused. “And it’s wrong cause they’re boys?” The boy was unashamedly looking at them now, as if inspecting them for wrongness he couldn’t see on the outside.

“That’s exactly right Matteo, that’s not the way things should be,” the father said, this time sounding proud. Luke wanted to cry or tear his hair or heart out – how could he sit by and watch this father teach his son hate right in front of him? How could the people sitting around him let this happen?

And then the world changed.

“But… daddy…” the boy said hesitantly. “If they kiss, then they’re in love. And momma says all love is good. So how is that wrong?”

You could hear a pin drop in Noah’s heart – it was like everything had stopped and those words echoed in the silence.

“No Matteo, you’ve got it all wrong-” Matteo’s father said weakly, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong and Luke didn’t have the heart to tell him that he went wrong a long time ago, probably when he was young and his father told him that kissing boys was evil. Seconds later, a pretty dark haired woman joined the man and son across the way, sliding into the seat closest to the aisle. Little Matteo clambered over the seat divider and into his mother’s lap.

“Momma, all love is good, right?” Matteo asked, staring up into his mother’s dark eyes, knowing she would have the right answer no matter what. If Matteo’s mother was taken aback to be asked such a question by her son, she didn’t show it. She smiled the most beautiful smile Luke had ever seen – besides Noah’s of course – and curled her hands around Matteo’s round cheeks.

“Matteo, all love is perfect,  _si_. And don’t you forget it.” Matteo smiled happily up at his mother, unable to see the furrowed brow of his father, simply happy that his mother had once again cured all the ills of the world with just a few words.

Luke shifted his gaze to Noah, who was staring at him with the bluest eyes Luke had ever seen. “Check ‘witnessing a miracle’ off my bucket list,” Luke whispered, a shaky smile crossing his lips. In return, Noah grinned widely, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

 _And cross ‘falling in love’ off of mine._

-

They landed in the Dallas Airport, the air conditioners on full blast as they maneuvered their way through the crowds of people exiting the plane. Fortunately, traveling luggage-less, they were able to escape with relative ease – but not before waving goodbye to Matteo, who was wrapped around his mother, head peeking over her shoulder. He waved wildly back to them, but by the time his father had turned to see who his son was waving to, Luke and Noah had disappeared into the crowd.

They made their way to the taxi lane and stepped out into the sweltering heat. It hit Luke like a punch in the nose and he was pretty sure he’d be drenched in less than two minutes. “Let’s grab a cab and book it,” Noah suggested, already taking hold of Luke’s hand and tugging him down the sidewalk. “It’s gotta be at least 95 right now.” Luke barely heard his comment, because his attention was focused on the hand Noah had in his – the hand he held while they stood in Dallas, Texas, down in the good ol’ South, where even though Luke knew he was being stereotypical – he couldn’t shake the feeling that not everyone was going to smile at the sight of two boys holding hands.

But here Noah was, holding his hand in broad daylight, unconcerned by the few dirty looks they were gathering, wholly invested in finding a free cab.  _Love you,_  Luke’s heart said and the rest of Luke throbbed in agreement. He was in love with this terrifically tall creature of a man, who had eyes Luke saw in his sleep and a hero complex a mile wide and the kindest heart of anyone who’d ever lived.

“Got one!”

And who could also catch a cab faster than Luke could catch a cold. “Sounds good,” Luke said with a grin, following Noah through the mass of sweaty, sunburned people to the idling yellow cab and slipping in beside him. “Is there a Comfort Inn around here? Or a Holiday Inn or something?” Noah asked the driver, leaning forward slightly but not losing his grip on Luke’s hand. The driver fiddled with the radio station and nodded the affirmative. “All right, the closest of those two, please,” Noah said with confidence, before leaning back against the seat with finality.

“Ready to sleep a little?” Noah asked, smiling a little. Luke was sure he hadn’t seen Noah smile this much in all the time that he’d known him. Unable to help himself, Luke’s free hand went up to trace softly at the corner’s of Noah’s mouth as if wishing to he could know what Noah’s happiness felt like (he already knew what it tasted like) and he huffed a laugh, grinning in response.

“Can’t wait,” he replied, settling back into the seat, determined to remember every detail of this moment - Luke’s first moment of perfect, incandescent happiness.

-

Despite the inherent awkwardness of explaining to a confused clerk why two strapping, healthy young men want a room with a single king bed, checking into the Comfort Inn went smoothly. Paying with cash was apparently not completely unheard of, so Noah and Luke – seemingly determined to create some sort of tradition – managed to get lost down the hallways of the hotel before stumbling over their room.

“Home sweet home,” Luke said dryly, though the Comfort Inn was nothing to scoff at considering their last night of real sleep had been spent in a bed with suspiciously faded gray covers and flat, listless pillows. Noah snorted and after setting the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door and setting both the deadbolt and the chain, returned to the main room and shucked off his shoes.

Luke could have read all these signals as ‘ _take me and take me now_ ’ but Noah was eyeing the bed more intensely than he was eyeing Luke – and fortunately, Luke felt the same exact way. “See you in a few hours?” Luke asked, already toeing off his shoes and sliding under the warm fluffy covers of the large bed.

Noah fiddled with the alarm clock, setting it to go off in seven hours – enough time to counter all the time change (twelve hour flight, eight hour time difference and Luke’s body was claiming it was ready to sleep for ten years) and get them well rested for whatever was next on this journey of theirs. “Correction,” Noah said, burrowing his face in his pillow as he slid in on the opposite side. Whatever he said was garbled by the pillow and Luke reached over to tug it away from Noah’s mouth.

“Say that again,” Luke said, delighting in the way Noah’s ears turned red.

“I said,” he annunciated clearly, obviously embarrassed but grinning nonetheless. “I won’t see you in a few hours – I’ll see you in my dreams.” Luke gaped for a moment before bursting into laughter. He tugged Noah closer to him and kissed him, laughter and all. Noah was soon laughing into the kiss and they uselessly tried to calm themselves down, but it was no use. Only a few minutes later did their laughter fade and Luke found himself curled into Noah’s body, head resting across his chest and one hand flat against his heart.

“Can’t wait to see you in mine,” Luke murmured, sleeping pulling him in. 

They woke to the sound of the alarm blaring, mostly in the same position they’d fallen asleep in, though Noah was embarrassed to realize that one of his hands had snuck under Luke’s shirt and possessively attached to one of his shoulder blades, ensuring Luke stayed close.

Luke was delighted.

“Coffee run?” Noah offered in the utter silence following the alarm. “Pretty sure I spotted a coffee place just down the block.” Luke hummed his acquiescence, but didn’t loosen his grip on any piece of Noah’s anatomy.

“Gimme a few minutes,” Luke murmured, adjusting his own body to lay more fully against Noah’s, pressing him into the mattress – and somehow Noah couldn’t find it in himself to deny this politely phrased request.

They lay there for nearly twenty minutes, though neither objected to the obvious waste of time. They were both far too comfortable to even consider getting up – but finally Luke’s desire to kiss Noah and inexplicable need to brush his teeth before kissing anyone won out.

After two trips to the bathroom later, a shower apiece and clothes the boys never wanted to wear ever again, the boys had settled themselves against the wall by the bathroom, enjoying a lazy, good morning kiss. Finally Noah broke away and smiled. “Let me get you some coffee and we can continue this when we’re both more awake.” Luke shook his head the second Noah started speaking.

“You’re not going for coffee alone Noah,” Luke said staunchly. “I’m not the only target in this shooting range anymore and you’re going to have to get used to it.” Noah was close to objecting, but the look on Luke’s face clearly stated: argue and die. As Luke had not said no more kissing after coffee, Noah was aiming for alive.

“All right, we’ll both go. You ready?” Luke nodded firmly so both of them grabbed whatever essentials they had that were left – Noah’s disposable phone (which was off to prevent tracking, which was a thought that scared Luke more than he’d let Noah know), the keycard to the room and both of their wallets.

The walk to the coffee place was quick – there was a Starbucks just around the corner and for the first time in nearly two weeks, Luke was in coffee heaven. He and Noah split up briefly to order drinks and by the time Noah managed to glance over at what Luke had gotten, he realized that Luke had ordered the most disgustingly sweet whipped cream topped girly drink Noah had ever seen.

Noah got black coffee. 

As they met again at the milk/sugar/stirrer, they peered at each others’ drinks and started laughing. Noah held up his giant cup of coffee in the universal sign for ‘cheers’ and Luke, still snorting, acquiesced. “At least we’ll never grab each others’,” Noah said dryly and Luke fell back into laughter.

The walk back to the hotel was even faster than the walk to Starbucks – at least it seemed like it to Luke, because Noah had once again taken Luke’s hand in his own and Luke could’ve walked a hundred miles and it all would’ve felt like walking on air.

“Room 124,” Noah reminded as they hit the lobby and Luke made a face.

“I remember,” he sing-songed, heading down the left facing hallway and pausing at the eighth door down. “Your faith in my memory is overwhelming,” Luke teased as he fiddled with the door. There was a cheerful beep as the keycard worked and he nudged the door open with his foot, catching it with his elbow.

“Well, you know,” Noah replied, shrugging out of his coat as he stepped through the door after Luke, “You are a blond and I-”

“Oh, you so did not go there Noah Mayer!” Luke said in mock-disbelief. “This calls for war, this-” Luke froze mid sentence because there was a man in their hotel room. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the man was Noah’s dad. They shared similar builds and those bright blue eyes Luke had fallen for - but the Colonel's were cold and hard and Luke's heart started racing in response.

“Dad?” Noah said shakily, having enough presence of mind to drag Luke back into the tiny hallway right by the door to the room, shoving him behind him. “What are you doing-”

“Did you really think you could get away from me son?” the Colonel replied instead, setting Luke’s teeth on edge. This was already sounding really, really terrible. Luke placed a gentle hand on Noah’s back, just trying to remind Noah who was here for him and who would always be on his side. The tension in Noah’s shoulders certainly didn’t disappear but some of it faded at the soft touch and Luke breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

“How the hell did you find us?” Noah demanded, not answering his father because  _yes_ , he  _had_  thought he could get away. His father was not all powerful or all seeing – though him showing up in their hotel room didn’t really back up that belief very much.

“I’ve always had friends watching out for you,” the Colonel answered calmly, the smile that crossed his face looking wrong somehow – just the least bit twisted and terrible. “That steward was a very smart purchase if I do say so myself.” Noah heard Luke inhale sharply at the same moment the contents of Noah’s stomach pushed to exit his body violently. Noah bit down on the nauseous feeling that nearly sent him to his knees.

“You paid someone to-” Noah couldn’t even think, wondering where his father’s reach finally ended, if ever.

“You will always be my son,” the Colonel continued as if Noah hadn’t spoken, standing from where he had been sitting at the foot of their bed. “And we are always going to be family. Nothing’s going to change that,” the Colonel said and Luke was scared to realize he was sounding kind of coherent and appealing.

“Dad, you told me I was a fag. You told me I wasn’t a man,” Noah said woodenly. “You told me you’d hurt Luke if you ever saw him.” Noah took a deep breath and Luke marveled at the courage of this man standing before him. “I don’t know much about family, but I’m pretty sure they don’t say things like that.”

The Colonel tensed visibly and both Noah and Luke flinched. “You don’t speak to me like that boy,” he started, taking several steps close to his son. “Keep a civil tongue in your head when you’re talking to me or I won’t be responsible for what I do.”

Forget all this witty repartee, forget Noah finding closure by finally meeting again with his father after all was said and done – Luke just wanted to book it out of there. This was in no way safe and he and Noah had had enough close encounters and near death experiences over the past few days to make this seem completely  _not_  worth it.

“Only if you do the same,” Noah snapped back, stepping forward, further away from Luke and further away from the door. Luke made a noise of protest and distress, but neither Mayer heard him.

“This is your last warning son,” the Colonel growled. “I didn’t want to do this, but since you refuse to come home and see reason and wash your hands of that dirty animal behind you-”

“Shut up!” Noah shouted. “Don’t you dare call him that. He’s worth a thousand of you!” And that seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back because before Luke could even protest that (because even as much as Noah defending him made his heart skip a beat, seeing Noah talk back to his potentially insane father was so not worth a mild heart aneurysm) the Colonel had pulled his gun.

Noah’s eyes widened and Luke just knew he was cursing the explosions that sank the ship that took all of Noah’s guns and knives with it. “Dad, put that down,” Noah said in his most sensible and placating tone. Had Luke been a crazy murderous psychopath, he definitely would have listened to that voice. “You don’t want to hurt anyone here.”

“That’s a lie son,” the Colonel said hoarsely. “That monster behind you should be dead and you should be at home.” Without any warning, the Colonel attacked, tackling his son around the middle and taking both him and Luke down at once. Luke wheezed, the wind knocked out of him when both men land on top of him and Noah immediately started to struggle, fighting the painful headlock his father has him in, despite the gun in one hand.

Finally Noah shoved him off and the wrestling match devolved into an all out brawl, but Luke could barely breathe never mind help Noah. Punch after punch was exchanged, but neither Mayer looked prepared to give up. Every attack that landed on Noah sent Luke into a frenzied panic though it was nearly a minute and a half before he even felt up to sitting up again.

“Get off of him!” Luke shouted, finally struggling to stand, clutching to the doorjamb as he went.

And then the gun went off.

  


Both Luke and Noah flinched, sure that the bullet had hit the other. Colonel Mayer flinched also and dropped his gun, positive he had killed his son by accident. It was only after ten seconds that one of the room felt the sharp, burning pain of being shot and collapsed to the floor in agony.

  
“Luke!” Noah roared and pelted to the boy’s side, unsure of where the actual wound was as the blood had spread so far so quickly. Colonel watched in astonishment as his dream came true and went all wrong all at once.

Without the boy who turned him (tainted him), the Colonel was sure Noah would turn back into his former self – a son, a soldier and a decent employee. But… but this was all wrong. Noah was supposed to want to go back home. All of this nonsense with the creature was supposed to make his straight son realize how disgusting those vile acts were. But… he was alone and the thing that meant the most to him in the world was cradling the head of a disgusting creature in his arms. With no more words or actions, with no idea what to think or do - The Colonel fled.

“Luke, no,” Noah muttered, stripping off his jacket in a hurry and pressing it to Luke’s wound. Luke arched up, wailing, sobbing as the boiling, aching pain in his shoulder magnified tenfold. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he murmured as he carded already bloody fingers through Luke’s perfect hair.  _What do I do?_ Noah cried in his head, alone.  _How do I fix this?_

“I’m sorry,” Noah apologized again, but he clutched Luke to him and dragged him to the bathroom, knowing anything helpful would be in that room. Luke made a noise that sounds like something was tearing at the back of his throat and Noah’s eyes grew hot and bitter as he heart it. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” Noah comforted meaninglessly as his hands clutched Luke’s shoulder.

Luke coughed weakly, flinching even as the air hissed through clenched teeth. Noah clutched Luke to him, putting as much pressure on the bullet wound as possible. “Noah, Noah,” Luke started, his voice hoarse as he grasped weakly at Noah’s sleeve. “I’m sorry.” Luke’s smile was closer to a grimace and something in Noah crumpled at the sight of it.

“You should be sorry,” Noah managed unevenly, his words stiff and brittle and his humorous smile in response falling flat. “You’re getting your blood all over me,” he finished, barely getting the words out over the rushing in his ears. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his stomach down in his throat.

“Hey, baby, baby, you’re shaking,” Luke murmured, his grasp on Noah’s shirt tightening for a split second before completely loosening. For some reason, this action terrified Noah more than anything else. His free hand flew out and caught Luke’s fingers with his, squeezing them tightly.  _Don’t let go of me,_  Noah begged.  _Not yet, shit, not yet._

“I’m not shaking brat,” Noah corrected, refusing to admit that there was a burning behind his eyes. “That’s you.”

“Oh,” Luke breathed out, barely making any sound now. “That’s not good, right?”

Noah choked on a laugh, squeezing his eyes tight against the heat building there. “Fraid not Snyder. But you rarely do anything right anyway.”

Luke’s weak laugh sounded wet and choked and Noah swore – loudly and unabashedly. Luke was not going to die like this – on the floor of some hotel room, bleeding out more rapidly than Noah thought should even be possible. Fuck, what was he supposed to do? He didn’t know anyone who – wait.  _Maybe_.

“Hang on Luke, please… just, just-” Noah muttered distractedly, digging in one of his pockets for his cell phone. He only had one chance to make this right, to fix this – it was a long shot, but it was a possibility and he wasn’t going to let a single one slip through his fingers. He dialed a number he thought he’d never have to call and held the phone up to his ear with one blood stained hand.  _Huh_ , he thought dumbly as he listened to the ringing on the other end, gazing at his trembling fingers where they pressed insistently against Luke’s chest,  _guess I_ am _the one shaking_.

“Mayer? Huh, didn’t think I’d have to hear your annoying voice ever again.”

“Shut up,” Noah snapped tersely, before forcing himself to relax. “Oliver, I need to call in that favor you owe me.” There was a snort and a slight pause before the famous Dr. Reid Oliver deigned to reply to him.

“I’m not sure if you’ve had a few too many knocks to the cranium Mayer, but if I may remind you -  _I_  cured your eyesight you bastard.” 

“Yeah, and then I repaid you by saving your life.” Noah said, trying not to sound like he was in a rush. If Reid caught even a hint of that in his voice, he’d never let it go and Luke would never even have a chance.

“So we’re even,” Reid replied, the  _duh_  in his voice obvious. Noah wished he could punch him in the face. 

“And then I saved your life  _again_ ,” Noah reminded him sharply, “So what do you say you get your ass over here in your big fancy car and balance the scales again?” 

A long silence. “Twenty minutes.”

“Ten minutes, Comfort Inn, room 124,” Noah countered, his voice broking no arguments, and then hung up.

Eight and a half minutes later, Noah heard the obnoxious roar of Reid’s car outside and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Noah debated meeting the man at the door, but figured that if Reid wasn’t smart enough to remember which room they were in then he didn’t want him touching Luke in this state. “C’mon Luke, c’mon,” Noah muttered, more for his sake than for Luke’s. He was pretty sure Luke’s attention had been fading in and out since he called Reid, which scared Noah more than he wanted to admit.

There was a knock on the door to the motel room and in response, Noah flicked Luke’s keycard, sending it sliding under the hotel door. There was a pause before a click and the door to the motel room opened. Before Reid could say something sarcastic about god knows what, Noah cut him off and called, “Bathroom!” He heard footsteps and glanced up only when a shadow fell over the bright white tile of the bathroom floor.

“You sure you want to waste your favor on this kid? He looks kinda sickly,” was Reid’s only comment.

“Oliver,” Noah growled. “You’re not funny. Fix him or I fix you.”

 “Okay, okay, touchy touchy. Do I sense some actual feelings on your part here Mayer? Interesting. Didn’t think you still had those nowadays.” Despite Reid’s indifferent tone, the man was on his knees beside Luke in an instant, checking his heart rate and impatiently pushing away Noah’s bloody hands to investigate the wound himself.

“You and me both,” he muttered, unsure of what to do with his hands now that Reid had taken over. He tucked them into tight fists, forcing himself to keep from brushing wayward blonde curls from out of Luke’s eyes, which were at half-mast. “Stay with me Luke, keep your eyes open,” he said, his tone firm and his voice steady.

“D’n wanna,” Luke mumbled, coughing a little. Reid shifted a little and Luke’s coughs turned into a choked gasped of pain as his eyes shot open before falling closed again. “Fuck,” Luke hissed, his blood-covered fingers curling around air as he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“Careful!” Noah snapped at Reid before he could stop himself. Reid didn’t take his eyes off of Luke as he said,   
“Why don’t you fuck off and let me do my job, alright?” He then proceeded to ignore Noah for the next minute or so as he peered at Luke and the gaping hole in his shoulder.

“All right Mayer, time to move,” Reid said a second later. “The kid had enough dumb luck to ensure the bullet missed all vital organs,” Noah hissed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding but Reid continued blithely, “but just dumb enough that the bullet wasn’t a through and through. We’re gonna have to take it out. And you’re gonna help me.” Reid’s smile was less than kind, more like a baring of the teeth. Noah stared at him for a split second before his gaze automatically was drawn to Luke.

Pale and sweaty, Luke looked as if he’d been sick for days. His lip was broken and chapped from where he’d been biting it against the pain and his hands scrabbled for purchase on the tile floor, looking for something to hold on to.

“Tell me what I need to do,” Noah said steadily, throwing caution to the wind and taking one of Luke’s hands in his. Luke seized upon his hand immediately, squeezing hard and Noah squeezed back, his fingers wrapped tight around Luke’s, “Just tell me what I’ve got to do,” he repeated.

-

Noah was the furthest thing from a wuss. He’d seen blood before, he’d seen people die before – but this was Luke, he told himself. This was _different_. Nearly passing out from watching Reid pull a bullet out of Luke’s shoulder had nothing to do with the blood that it was Noah’s job to staunch the flow of and everything to do with the fact that it was Luke, possibly  _bleeding out_ on a bathroom floor.

Now Luke was settled into one of the two crappy beds, breathing steadily but quietly. Noah couldn’t tear his eyes away, as if it was Noah’s focus that kept him alive.

“You  _can_  take your eyes off the kid for a second,” Reid interrupted his thoughts as rudely as he usually interrupted his conversations. “If only to get down on your knees and kiss my feet for saving your precious brat.” Noah scowled, but didn’t look away from Luke. The soft in and out of his chest was mesmerizing in a way and Noah let the sight calm him – at least until Reid spoke again. “He’ll survive Mayer,” Reid said bluntly. “With or without your pathetic, puppy dog eyes watching his every move.”

“Shut up Oliver,” Noah snapped, finally tearing his gaze away from Luke. He glared at Reid for a long moment before recalling  _just_  what the doctor had done for him and letting out a long sigh – and with it, all his anger. “Thank you,” Noah said a second later, his expression serious.

It was as if Reid had no idea how to take genuine gratitude. He glared back at Noah, fidgeting slightly. “You’re welcome asshole,” Reid muttered. Another long silence fell, with Noah staring at Luke and Reid splitting his time between inspecting Luke and glaring at Noah. “When are you planning to move him?” Reid asked eventually, his voice resigned. He obviously didn’t like the idea of moving his patient so soon, but Reid knew the kind of people Noah dealt with. He knew that staying in one place for very long was very, very stupid.

“Earliest I possibly can,” Noah answered tersely. “Probably tomorrow morning?” He glanced at Reid out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll drive straight out of town and hopefully put some distance between us and this place.” There was a long awkward silence as Noah waited for Reid to speak.

“Guess we’re taking my car,” Reid said gruffly, finally. Noah blinked at him and opened his mouth to speak, but Reid cut him off. “I’m not letting you go and kill my patient after I put all that hard work into stitching him back together. Plus, you can’t go and steal a car from here you fucking idiot, not if you want to keep a low profile. We’ll get far enough away from Dallas so you assholes can get a car of your own and then I’ll drive back.” Reid glared fiercely at the lamp on Luke’s bedside table and Noah mouthed wordlessly. Finally he gathered his thoughts and hid his growing smirk as best he could.

“You’re right Reid,” he said evenly, trying not to snort. “You’re absolutely right.”

“You bet your ass I am,” Reid muttered, disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him. Noah let himself laugh then, ignoring the threats and swears from behind the bathroom door. The laughter died down after a minute and Noah returned to his silent vigil beside Luke’s bedside, finally giving into the urge to fuss with Luke’s hair.

“Hey,” came a murmur a moment later, Luke’s eyes slitting open to peer up at Noah.

“Hey there,” Noah breathed, sliding off his chair to kneel beside the bed, getting as close to Luke as possible. “How are you feeling?”

There was a long pause as Luke considered. “People in the movies always say ‘like I got shot,’” he said hoarsely, “But it kind of feels like someone drilled a hole through my arm instead.” Noah huffed a laugh, smiling slightly.

“Hate to break it to you kid, but that’s exactly what getting shot feels like,” Noah said, his eyes roving Luke’s face.

“Oh,” Luke murmured distractedly in response, seemingly distracted by Noah’s eyes and lips. “If we ever get out of this situation,” Luke said slowly, after a moment of silence where both men just absorbed the sight of the other, “I give you full permission to say ‘told you so’.” Noah raised an eyebrow in query. “About the steward, about Paul,” Luke clarified with a cough, frowning slightly. “You were right, he was a total plant.”

Noah snorted in amusement. “Luke, if we ever get out of this – which we will – I’m going to kill that steward twice.” Luke raised an eyebrow right back.

“Twice?” he asked, sounding more curious than anything else.

“Once for being a snitch,” Noah said, his tone making it clear that he thought that this at least was obvious. “And twice for going anywhere near you.” Luke snorted, but Noah was serious. The image of Luke in that bastard Paul’s arms, kissing him, was permanently seared into his mind and even the thought of it now made Noah’s temper flare.

“You were that angry?” Luke asked dubiously, his voice still a little hoarse, and Noah gave him a disbelieving look. “No, honestly, you were that jealous?”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Of course I was that jealous! Did you miss my constant awkward staring during your makeout session with whatever the hell his name was?”  Luke flushed at the mention of making out, but he didn’t back down, fierce even as he lay pale and injured.

“You know he was nothing,” Luke said seriously, peering up at Noah from his prone position on the bed. “We kissed a little-”

“Not helping!” Noah snaps, slapping his hands over his ears as if that would block out the sound of Luke’s voice, recounting all his previous sexual exploits.

“-a little and that was it!” Luke continued nonetheless. He blinked up at Noah. “It was you Noah, it was always about you. Even when you made me angry, even when you were still just Mayer – Everything I did on that damn boat was in reaction to you.” Luke smiled sheepishly, lifting his good hand to trace the line of Noah’s jaw and chin. “You had me from your first non committal grunt, babe and you always will”

Noah stared down at the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen, who, without coercion or begging or manipulation, was promising him forever. How could this be his life? Noah asked himself. How could this be all his? Noah pressed close to Luke and lifted his lips to Luke’s – softly at first, but building, slowly driving the man beneath him insane with tongues and lips and heat and long, intense passion - but careful not to put too much pressure on Luke's injured shoulder. “And you,” Noah said, finally breaking away and taking pride in the way Luke whimpered in loss. “will always have me, as I will always have you.” Noah brushed another soft kiss to the lips he couldn’t seem to leave alone. “Mine,” he murmured afterwards. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Luke agreed, drawing Noah back down for another one of his mind altering good kisses.

-

“We need gas,” Reid mentioned, a few minutes into the drive, his eyes shifting between the wheel, the front window and Luke sprawled out in the backseat. “Pull over here, it’s cheap.”

Noah grunted his assent and made the turn into the empty gas station, pulling up beside one of the far pumps. “Stay here,” Noah warned Reid, not willing to leave Luke in a car, recovering, alone, even for a split second. Reid cheerfully gave him the two-fingered salute and went back to taking Luke’s heart rate. Noah frowned half-heartedly, before exiting the car to amble over to the pumps. They were old-fashioned and not very fast, but Noah eventually managed to get the hose into tank opening and start filling up his car. As he did so, another car pulled into the station and up beside a pump that was a few spaces behind them. Noah noted the arrival but didn’t think much of it until the driver stepped out.

“Hello son,” the Colonel said, stepping towards Noah, a Glock in hand and a slight smile on his face. “I’m glad I caught up to you.”

“Dad, I’m not having this fight at a gas station,” Noah said carefully, shifting so that Luke was behind him – as if his body would shield the blond from the ensuing explosion if his father decided to open up a clip into one of the gas pumps. If his father got that angry, they were all done for. Noah clenched and unclenched his fists, wishing like hell he still had his gun, or a knife, or anything really – anything to keep Luke safe. But he was defenseless and his father knew it.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t be fighting,” he father replied amiably, calmly, and had Noah not known him as well as he did, he would have believed it in a heartbeat. His father gestured widely, his gun held loosely in his hand and Noah felt Luke flinch violently and heard Reid swear. “We should be talking this out, father to son, man to man.” Noah nodded slowly, shifting where he stood, breath catching in his throat. “But you’re the one making that difficult son!” his father bellowed. “ _You’re_  the one talking nonsense about t-that…  _freak_  who  _brainwashed_  you!” His father shook the gun right at Luke, the fury in his face setting all three of them on edge. 

Noah felt a white hot ball of anger form in his chest and desperately wanted to lash out at his father – who the hell was he to tell Noah that he’d been brainwashed? Noah knew he’d been brainwashed – except it’d started when he was a kid and it was all his father’s doing. He resisted the urge to say so because his father looked as if he was close to a murderous rampage. Noah was fully prepared to just tell Reid to floor it and get Luke the hell out of here – when suddenly, a terrifying calm fell over the Colonel’s face and Noah’s heart thumped loudly in his chest.

“Just come home Noah,” the Colonel said faintly, though even the use of Noah’s name couldn’t convince him that the Colonel was even close to sane. Noah bit down hard on the nostalgia that threatened to rise up.  _No_ , his mind warned.  _That’s all over now and you know it._ “Come home and we’ll forget all this, forget your silly indiscretions – it’ll all be okay again.” Noah stared at his father, trying to identify the unfamiliar feeling that was flowing through him now instead. It struck him hard a moment later – it was  _pity_.

“I’m never going back home Dad,” Noah said with finality, almost gently. “I’m never leaving Luke and I’m never going back there.” And though he wasn’t, not at all, not even a little bit, and although something in him told him to just leave it at that, he added softly: “I’m sorry.”

His father’s face contorted in rage and before he could even lift the hand holding his gun, Noah had lunged – tackling his father at the knee. The gun went flying and his father struggled against him. “Sorry?” his father roared, tearing Noah away from him and sending him rolling away. “You’re sorry for this?!” 

Before he could make a move towards Noah again, Noah was tackling him again, this time slamming a fist across the Colonel’s face. He wasn’t prepared for the way the Colonel just blinked up at him, as if the bloody nose Noah had just given him didn’t faze him in the slightest. “You should be sorry for fucking around with that little freak!” the Colonel shouted, punctuating his sentence with punch that sent Noah sprawling again. Noah heard Luke’s voice in the distance shouting his name, begging Reid to go help him.

Noah didn’t really hold his breath for that one – Reid was an _all for one, one for him kind of guy_ , but he didn’t blame him. Watching his father loom over him now, he wouldn’t want to get caught dead in this fight. And unfortunately, ‘caught dead’ kind of looked like where it was going. He could taste blood on his tongue and one side of his face felt like it was on fire. He resisted the urge to touch it, to reassure himself it wasn’t all blood and bruise. Something like that could be seen as a sign of weakness.

Noah stood unsteadily, never taking his eyes off the man before him. There was a hollow, emptiness in his father’s eyes that was terrifying. The Colonel looked as though he’d been through hell and back again -  _and left his soul behind in hell,_ snarked a part of Noah’s brain entirely inappropriately. This was so not the time. Noah’s hands burned from where he’d fallen on the gravel, his fingers clenched tight around the rocks and dirt.

He’d never thought it would come to this - his father actually wanting to kill him, planning on hurting him.  _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Noah wanted to close his eyes and wish this all away, but he knew his life didn’t work that way. Before he could even contemplate escaping his position, his father had him by the throat, squeezing tightly with his left hand. Noah choked and gasped for breath, but even as he fought to free himself, his father slammed his other fist into Noah’s face, over and over and over again. 

Noah closed his eyes against the onslaught, feeling his vision graying at the edges anyway as he struggled to breathe in through what he was sure was now a broken nose. All he could hope was that Reid used his finely honed sense of self-preservation and drove Luke and him far, far away. His father was never going to let Noah go, not now that he’d found him - and as long as Luke had managed to escape, Noah thought he could probably live with that. His life was crazy and fucked up and never really meant for a happy ending. 

Luke had been his, for such a brief moment in time. Noah had had all the makings of a happily ever after within his grasp - but his life would have never worked out like that. Luke could never have been his forever. He was perfect, and perfect things were fleeting, especially in Noah’s life.

 _God_ , he was going to die and his father was going to be his murderer. His life was so screwed up.

“Hey!” Luke’s voice interrupted Noah’s morbid musings, as if he knew exactly what Noah had been thinking. Luke always took it upon himself to drag Noah (even kicking and screaming) from the moods he fell in – but this was different. He startled the colonel enough that his grip loosened somewhat and Noah gasped in a much desired lungful of air. “Get the hell off of him or I shoot!” Noah’s heart dropped, even as something in him unknotted at the sound of Luke’s voice. Why the hell was he still here? Where the fuck was Reid? Luke was perched on the edge of the backseat of the car, legs dangling out the door and gun in hand. He was wheezing slightly, his face pale as his one good arm held the gun aloft - but there was no doubting the determination on his face. The gun must have slid towards him at some point though Noah had no idea how or when.

“You don’t know what to do with that,” the Colonel sneered, though he had stopped beating Noah to hell, leaving Noah in relative peace to choke through the agony of having his face bashed in. Luke stared coolly back at the man and expertly flicked the safety off and leveled the gun.

“Noah taught me,” Luke replied through clenched teeth - Noah wasn't sure whether he was hissing in anger or gritting his teeth against the pain. “So put him the hell down or I’ll kill you.” The Colonel seemed to pause at that but considering Noah could barely breathe, he couldn’t even take the slightest bit of pleasure that apparently having  _him_  teach Luke to shoot was some cause for concern.

Noah stared desperately at Luke out of one swollen eye, more terrified than he had been this entire trip. After all, his father had already resigned himself to killing Noah. Killing Luke, seemingly the bearer of all ills, would be nothing in comparison. The Colonel let Noah drop to the gravel, sending an agonizing jolt straight to Noah’s head. He groaned loudly and tried to summon the energy to breathe.

Luke watched the Colonel carefully, eyes blazing. “Don’t you ever touch him again,” he said, his voice steel - taking a step towards the Colonel to distract him from his primary target - his son. Noah gaped. God, was Luke fearless or just an idiot? 

“Luke, don’t,” he croaked out around the blood that was steadily filling his mouth. 

“Get over here Noah,” Luke snapped, not taking his eyes off Noah’s father. Recognizing that tone all too well, Noah stood unsteadily and lurched his way over towards the car, only stopping when he nearly slammed into the trunk, his legs almost crumpling beneath him. “Oh god, Noah,” Luke murmured fearfully, his gaze now darting rapidly between the frozen Colonel and the sight of Noah, beaten to hell. “Let me kill him, please, I can’t believe what he did to you,” Luke’s voice was growing more and more tearful, his resolve growing more and more firm – but Noah laid a hand over the top of the gun.

“Give the gun to me,” Noah coughed out. He wasn’t going to let Luke do this to himself. Killing wasn’t something you got over anytime soon. It wasn’t a relief; it didn’t take a weight off your shoulders, it wasn’t clean and simple like the movies. He didn’t ever want to force Luke to shoot a gun or to lose that bit of himself that disappears the first time you pick up a gun and pull the trigger with the intent to kill. And certainly not when the reason was Noah’s father.

Luke faltered slightly, eyes still trained on the Colonel, who was watching the goings on with something like smugness. “But… but I want-”

“No,” Noah said firmly, ignoring the blood dripping down the side of his face and trailing down his neck. With shaking hands, Luke let Noah take the gun from him, watching him stand and train it back on his father. There was a steadiness to his hand, even though half his face was swollen and bloody beyond recognition.

“You’ll never shoot me,” the Colonel chuckled. “I’m your father, I know you and as much as you try to-” The Colonel’s words were cut off by two gunshots which tore the air.

Noah watched indifferently as his father writhed on the ground, one hand clasping his shoulder and the other his knee. “You don’t know me Dad,” Noah said finally, emptily. “You never really did.” Dizzily, Noah noticed that he could no longer support himself and slid down the side of the car, settling to the ground with a thump that sent his head spinning. “Luke,” Noah groaned, closing his swollen eyes shut, “I don’t feel so good.”

“Oh  _Noah_ ,” Luke cried, sliding slowly out of the car, taking good care not to jostle his own bandaged shoulder, and settled beside him on the ground. Noah distantly noted soft hands flitting around his bruises and cuts, as if unsure where he was allowed to touch. Luke was also babbling something, something about being sorry and getting an ambulance and other things that Noah was sure he had an opinion on, but not one that he could summon up right now.

The quiet of the moment – ignoring Luke’s babbling and the Colonel’s groaning – was cut sharply by the sound of police sirens. Noah forced his one good eye open to catch the flashing red and blue lights of the local LEOs. “Where did-“ Noah began, when all of a sudden, Reid’s face popped into view, complete with ugly doctor bag and narrowed eyes. “You?” Noah asked incredulously.

“What? I had to do something while you were over there playing patty cake with your dear old dad,” Reid said defensively in response to Noah and Luke’s astonished gazes. “Some of us actually work sometimes Mayer, I know the idea’s new to you and all…” Reid trailed off, too busy bandaging Noah to continue snarking at him. Noah closed his eyes and huffed a pained laugh. Guess he owed Reid another one.

Noah drifted for the next few minutes, listening to the sounds of Luke and Reid bickering over him and police officers securing the area and the gun. The last thing he heard before eventually his difficulty breathing and the flaring pain pulled him under was Luke’s voice: “Will he be okay?”

-

Colonel Winston Mayer was apprehended at around noon one Sunday afternoon. There was no need for cuffs because he was bleeding from both the shoulder and the knee and he could be heard bellowing in pain above all the other shouts of the paramedics and police. Very few in the crowd had any sympathy for him – they’d seen what he did to his son. What he did to that handsome blond boy.

No, the crowd murmured, that Colonel Mayer was a bad one, that was for sure. And he was going away for a long time.

Noah didn’t hear any of this. Unconscious and badly beaten, Noah was the first in an ambulance. Luke argued that he should be allowed to go with Noah but he was of course the second to be forced into an ambulance, Reid having tattled on him in that annoying way of his. “GSW to the shoulder yesterday, bullet removed but he should be doped up till he can’t remember which way is straight.”

“Forgot that one a long time ago Reid,” Luke snapped, reluctantly allowing himself to be helped onto a stretcher. Surprised, Reid barked out a laugh, watching the medics load the stretcher expertly into the back of the ambulance.

“You and me both kid,” he said, smirking at the startled look on Luke’s face. Luke opened his mouth to speak but Reid cut him off. “You are  _so_  not my type, you brat.” Reid mock gazed into the distance longingly. “But that emotionally deficient man-child of yours, hmm…”

“Touch him and die!” Luke snarled, most of him knowing Reid was kidding and part of him fully willing to bust a few balls to keep Noah as his own. As the doors closed on the ambulance, Luke could see Reid laughing wildly, an odd look in his eyes – a look that looked an awful lot like approval.

-

It was hours later before Noah woke from whatever sedative they slipped into his IV while he was distracted and as much as his head was aching something fierce, his only concern was that Luke was nowhere to be found.

He slipped out of bed, removing his IV with a wince, and pulled uselessly at the patient gown they’d put on him. Fortunately he was still in his jeans, but if he was going to go hunt for Luke he couldn’t look like a lost patient. Noah peered out of his room, spotting a generally empty hallway, only a few nurses looking in on patients every so often and –  _bingo_. At the end of the hallway there was a break room which looked completely empty. Noah trotted casually down the hall, pretending as if half of his face wasn’t smashed in and bandaged and as if he was totally supposed to be where he was.

He ducked into the break room and snatched the first set of scrubs he could find, tugging the patient gown off and pulling the top half of a pair of scrubs on. There – he didn’t exactly look like a doctor or a nurse, but he wasn’t showing off his naked back anymore. Now it was time to find Luke.

Noah started down the hall, heading towards what he hoped was some information desk – but it was currently swamped by nearly twenty people, all shouting about the same thing.

“My son, you need to tell me how my son is doing-” a tall, built man with dark brown hair was saying angrily.

“Please, he’s got a very long medical history and we need to make sure-” added a beautiful woman with long brown hair, who looked close to tears.

“My brother!” cried a small girl who could barely peer over the top of the desk, “Let me see my brother!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s just not possible right now. Information can only be released to his current guardian,” the nurse behind the desk said firmly, though she looked fairly stressed and entirely apologetic. Noah didn’t blame her – this family seemed pretty intense, though Noah couldn’t blame them. They sounded exactly like he felt about Luke.

“But we’re his family!” cried an older woman in the back who was cradling a young boy to her chest. “His parents and his siblings and his grandparents-”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not what the records say. It says here that Luciano Grimaldi-”

“Luke Snyder,” snapped the dark haired man, narrowing his eyes at the nurse, who continued on blithely, totally oblivious to the family’s anger and Noah’s surprise.  _This_  was Luke’s family? These were the Snyders?

“-that Luciano Grimaldi’s information can only be given out to Damian Grimaldi and his temporary guardian, whom we have yet to identify.” Noah started violently – wait, wait, hadn’t he been given temporary guardianship of Luke? Hope overwhelming all other senses, Noah pushed to the front of the desk, eyes wide and unconscious of the twenty sets of eyes now on him.

“Noah Mayer,” he said sharply, “The temporary guardian is Noah Mayer, right?” When the nurse nodded slowly, Noah huffed out a relieved laugh, as if he couldn’t believe it. For once in his rotten life, Damian had done some good. “Here, that’s me, here’s my ID, that’s me, I’m Noah Mayer,” Noah couldn’t fumble his driver’s license out fast enough, slapping it down on the desk for the nurse to see. She inspected it closely before nodding sharply. “Tell me how he is,” Noah demanded, leaning over the desk as if to spy the answer on her computer screen.

The nurse gave a hesitant look at the Snyder family who had all crowded around the desk and were varying between looks of astonishment, relief and anger that some stranger was Luke’s guardian.

“I’m going to tell them anyway,” Noah said, brushing aside her concerns. “They’re his parents. Tell me how Luke is, now!” The nurse jerked her head and pulled out a file, flipping through it quickly.

“It was a close call on an infection from the gunshot, but they caught it pretty early and he should be fine in a few days, he just had a slight fever. The wound looks fine and he’s not in pain right now, but he’s sleeping –” she lowered the chart to narrow her eyes at Noah, as if just recognizing he was wearing scrubs and looked awfully bandaged. “Which means you, Mr. Mayer, can sit right down and wait for him to wake up.” Noah scowled and shook his head.

“Alright, but I’m sitting outside his room – what number is it?” The nurse told him twelve and he turned to march off in that direction, but found himself suddenly pinned by forty eyes. He gulped loudly and heard the nurse snort behind him. He could’ve sworn she said ‘ _better you than me_ ’ but he was sure he was just imagining it.

There was silence until the dark haired man stepped forward, something slightly menacing about his presence. “Who are you and why do you have guardianship of my son?” he asked, Noah cataloguing his tone as ‘dangerous’ and ‘confused.’ Not a good combination.

“I’m Noah Mayer sir,” Noah said, offering his hand to shake immediately. Holden Snyder shook it, looking surprised at himself as he did so. “You must be Holden Snyder, Luke’s dad.” Noah was running on pure bullshit right now – he was scared out of his mind. This was Luke’s family, these were the people who mattered most to Luke and if they said Noah had to go, Noah was probably going to have to go because he would never do anything to risk Luke losing his family all over again.

Not when it was his fault the Snyder’s nearly lost their son.

“And you must be Lily Snyder,” he said, summoning up his most polite, aw-shucks-ma’am smile as he turned to the beautiful woman beside Snyder. “And you’re Faith and Natalie,” he added, turning to the two younger girls beside their mother, both of whom shared Luke’s nose and crinkled smile. His eyes lifted to a matronly figure joining her grandchildren, “And Emma Snyder ma’am, it’s nice to meet you and…” Noah laid eyes on the nearly three-year-old boy Emma held close and something in him clenched. He was meeting Luke’s little brother before Luke did – Noah wanted to tear at his hair and laugh and punch Damian all at once. It wasn’t fair what his biological father had done, preying on his son in his most vulnerable state, taking him away from everything important – but things would get better soon. Things were going to get really really good, really  _really_  soon.

“And you must be Ethan,” Noah breathed, unable to keep from smiling. “Man, Luke is going to be so happy to see you.” Ethan may have felt shy at the attention of a stranger but the sound of Luke’s name caught his notice and he smiled brightly.

“Lu?” he asked shyly and Noah nodded his head furiously.

“Luke’s told me all about you,” Noah said, bending his knees slightly to catch Ethan’s gaze. “Luke has wanted to see you real bad for a very long time.” Ethan’s smile brightened and Noah felt his widen in response. Someone behind him cleared their throat and Noah stood, flushing a little – he wished Luke was here to defuse the situation slightly, or at least introduce everyone. His disadvantage was major here and he felt a little like he was treading water uselessly –  _but_ , Noah thought with resolve, this was Luke’s family. They  _had_  to like him or else… or else Noah didn’t know what he was going to do.

“And I’m sure I’ve heard of the rest of you, but not enough to match names to new faces. I got kind of lost when he got to step-half-cousins,” Noah said, his mouth quirking into a sheepish smile. There was a general chuckle of amusement from the crowd in the hallway and the tense atmosphere lifted a little.

Except from Holden. “I repeat,” he said sternly, not looking appeased by Noah’s apparent identification of various family members, “Who are you?” Noah took a deep breath and opened his mouth to explain when there was a gasp from over Holden’s shoulder and the voice of Luke’s mom saying,

“Damian! What are you doing here?” Something in Noah snapped and he whirled to face the blond-haired man, wondering how he could have ever been impressed by his collected image.

“Mr. Grimaldi,” Noah said stiffly, clenching his hands into fists as he watched the man approach.

“Mayer, I am here to see my son. Do you have a status report for me?” Damian asked, pausing a few feet from Noah and narrowing his eyes.

“I do not,” Noah bit out, “Because you don’t deserve to know a single thing.” Damian blinked, not having expected that response. 

“What do you mean? I am called and told that my son is injured, he is in the hospital, that he has been shot – is this not your fault? Is it not your job to make sure my son is safe?”

“Your son would have been safe,” Noah snapped, trying not to let Damian’s words get to him. “If you had not lied to him and manipulated him into taking this trip!” Damian scowled, gesturing dismissively.

“The problem was not in Luciano-”

“Luke!” Noah and Holden shouted together, Holden freezing and taking a more considering glance of the man in front of him, who had positioned himself between Damian and the Snyders – or more importantly, between Damian and the hallway that led to Luke.

“The problem was not in my  _son_  doing his job,” Damian said pointedly, “But in your inability to protect him or to separate your personal feelings from your professional.” Noah flushed – he had hoped that Damian had not had a clue about his and Luke’s relationship, but he supposed if his own father had gone mad for revenge because of it, it was too much to ask that Damian had not even heard about it.

“I love Luke,” Noah said fiercely, “And I will protect him from anything that might hurt him – including you. There is no way you’re seeing Luke today.”  

“That is not your choice,” Damian chuckled, “In fact, I think I will have you removed as guardian, so that you lose access to my son additionally. It would not do to have the two of you together right now. You are far too volatile – Luciano needs his rest.”

“You can’t,” Noah said desperately, wishing – not for the first time and probably not for the last - that he had watched his mouth. “You can’t do that!”

“No,” came Holden’s deep, surprisingly calm voice. “He actually can’t. He needs your signature in agreement to remove that privilege.” Noah nearly broke his neck as he spun to stare at Holden in disbelief.

“Really?” Holden nodded shortly and Noah felt weak with relief. “Thank god.” He turned back to Damian, more determined than ever to protect Luke from his biological father. “I think you should go,” Noah said quietly, clenching his hands again tightly. There was suddenly a warm hand on his shoulder and Noah flinched before realizing it was just Holden, stepping up to stand right behind him, the look on his face something Noah dizzily labeled as a little approving.

“I think the boy’s right Damian,” Holden said carefully, eyeing Damian with as much hatred as Noah had ever seen. Quietly and quickly, almost too fast for Noah to notice, a small hand looped through his free arm, patting his upper arm comfortingly.

“I agree Damian,” said Lily, who had taken Noah’s arm as if they were friends – as if she knew and liked him. Noah had never been touched like this in his entire life. “You should leave.” Damian did not budge an inch but Noah felt like flying. If he knew that all he had to do to get approval from the Snyders was blow up on Damian, he would’ve demanded the asshole show up a lot sooner.

“Nurse, room twelve’s awake,” came a tired voice from behind the mass of Snyders. “He’s-” but the doctor didn’t have the chance to finish telling the station nurse just what Luke was because Noah was half-sprinting, half-leading the way down the hallway to Luke’s room, followed by what looked like a stampede of people. Noah quietly opened the door, peering in and almost laughed at the sight of Luke struggling to sit up by himself despite what the nurse beside the bed was snarling at him.

Noah crossed the room quickly and helped the nurse raised the bed with well-worn familiarity. Luke smiled up at him in thanks and went in for a kiss, but Noah stopped him gently to point at the door where the entirety of the Snyder clan stood, waiting for some silent signal to be allowed entrance.

“Mom, Dad,” Luke gasped, almost knocking over the glass of water on his tray table. “I-” But Luke couldn’t finish his sentence either, because that seemed to be the cue for the family to fall into the room, Lily leading the way to her son’s bed.

“Oh Luke, we’ve missed you so much,” she murmured, her arms wrapping gently around her son. “I love you so, so much.” Luke’s voice was muffled by his mother’s shirt and the hug she had him in, but Noah knew he detected some tears when Luke said:

“I love you too Mom, I’ve missed you all.” All at once, the family seemed to relax and several side conversations began and Noah found himself unable to decide just which piece of family dynamic he wanted to observe. It was all so unfamiliar and brand new to him - was this what family was? This bustling, chaotic crowd of noise and confusion and affection? But the room went quiet at the appearance of Damian Grimaldi who had apparently not done as they asked but instead was stepping towards Luke’s bed with a remorseful frown on his face.

“Luciano, son,” Damian started, hands out, his eyes placating.

“It’s Luke,” Noah and Luke said together automatically. Their gazes met and Luke’s unexpected bright smile forced a grin out of Noah.  _Thank you,_ Luke mouthed, reaching past his mother and squeezing Noah’s hand gently in his own. Noah squeezed back, his thumb brushing against Luke’s knuckles comfortingly. Damian studied them unhurriedly, but Luke looked unconcerned and Noah merely stared back at him, unfazed by such scrutiny. Noah had dealt with the Colonel’s glares his whole life; Damian had nothing on his father.

“Luke,” Damian amended reluctantly. “Please reconsider, just think of the opportunities you’re throwing away, just-”

“No,” Luke said firmly. “I don’t think so. Please consider this my renouncing of…” Luke struggled to find the words, before finally settling on: “Whatever it is I need to renounce to not be your heir anymore. I won’t be taking anymore ambassadorial trips or visiting Malta or you anytime soon. And I certainly won’t be joining your evil criminal empire or whatever the hell you’ve been doing in your spare time.” Luke’s eyes blazed with fury and disappointment. 

“Son,” Damian tried again.

“Accept me just as I am,” Luke said, his voice clear and his eyes intent, “and accept this decision - and maybe we will see about the future. The far future.” There was a note of finality in his tone and Holden took that as his cue to bodily push Damian out the door.

“Perhaps another time,” Holden said, his teeth bared in what Noah was guessing was not supposed to be a smile. Holden shut the door firmly behind him. He tugged the shade down and leaned against it casually, arms folded as he smiled across the room at his son who smiled back at him widely.

“Hi Dad,” Luke said, almost shyly. Holden’s smile grew to epic proportions and before anyone else could move, Holden crossed the room and hugged his son to his chest.

“Hey Luke,” Holden murmured into the crown of golden hair that they had never shared but that Holden had always loved. “We missed you around the house a fair bit.” As far as Noah could tell, that was the understatement of the century but that seemed to be the Snyder game. Noah smiled, happy to just see Luke so happy. 

"And I think there's someone who's been dying to meet you," Holden continued, only loosening his grip on his son enough to wrap an arm around his shoulders and gesture with the other at the small boy cradled in Grandma Emma's arms. Luke's mouth dropped open and he was reaching for his little brother before his Grandma had even made a move towards the bed.

Ethan's shyness only lasted long enough for Luke to murmur "Hey E," with wide wet eyes - Noah was not afraid to admit that his own weren't exactly dry as a bone, and neither were anyone else's in the room. A split second later, Ethan was crawling along the hospital bed into his brother's arms, his own eyes wide with curiosity.

"Lu?" He asked, hesitantly, one small hand reaching up to touch Luke's face. Luke nodded furiously, obviously afraid his voice was going to fail him. He took a deep breath and let one hand drift along Ethan's messy dark hair. 

"Yeah E, it's me. It's nice to see you," he said hoarsely a moment later. Ethan grinned widely and Luke was helpless to do anything but grin back.

"And who that?" Ethan pointed up at Noah, who had still not surrendered his spot beside Luke's bed - partly out of instinct and mostly out of reluctance to ever let Luke from his sight ever again.

And then all eyes were on him, again. There was less suspicion this time, but the curiosity in the collective Snyders’ eyes was overwhelming. “You guys,” Luke said, yanking gently on Noah’s hand to bring him closer to the bed, Ethan still cradled against his good side. “This is Noah. He saved my life.” It was said so simply that Noah could only gape, unable to answer or deny this complete lie. He hadn’t saved Luke – Luke had saved him.

But Luke’s statement was enough for the rest of the Snyders apparently because Noah found himself suddenly and utterly  _hugged_. One of Luke’s aunts hugged him first, an uncle clapping him on the shoulder. Then Lily was there, hugging him close and Holden was smiling at him from Luke’s other shoulder. Faith and Natalie immediately started peppering him with questions and Noah answered warily until their enthusiasm became completely overwhelming and he found himself laughing along.

“Sorry,” Luke said, snorted slightly, “Snyders are a big hugging family.” They all laughed and Noah chuckled weakly, still sticking close to Luke’s shoulder. Luke seemed to understand perfectly though and wrapped his good arm around Noah’s waist, tugging him until Noah was positioned behind Luke’s shoulder, letting the blond rest his head against his stomach. Noah tensed, not knowing how Luke’s family would react to such a blatant display of affection, but they all looked on with cheerful smiles and Noah realized that this  _was_  what family was supposed to be like.

Slightly crazy, somewhat stressful but essentially there – always there, no matter what.

As Emma bustled over to give Luke what he had told Noah would be the best hug of his life, Luke smiled over her shoulder and mouthed the words _I love you_  at his family-struck boyfriend. As Luke cheerfully accepted his certified, genuine Emma-hug, his Grandma said innocently, “I’m so glad you were there for Luke when he needed it.”

Still reeling from Luke’s effortless declaration, Noah dazedly replied, “Same here.”

Luke smiled ridiculously in reply and Noah couldn’t help but smile ridiculously back. After several minutes, the doctors at the hospital finally caught on that they had about 20 visitors too many and the room emptied, leaving Luke and Noah to their own devices – alone, finally, for the first time in god knows how long.

“I love you too,” Noah said softly, finally – for the first time he realized. Ever. When Luke pulled him down for a kiss, Noah pulled back slightly, still unable to comprehend how much his life had changed in the past – god, had it only been a little more than a week? How was that even possible? – few days. Luke’s brow furrowed, slightly confused – but Noah shook his head. It was all right, he was all right – he was sure of it now.

He didn’t see how he could be anything else but all right, not with Luke by his side.

So when Luke breathed softly against his lips, “What’s wrong?” Noah answered just as he did before, for precisely the same reasons – because nothing could be wrong in a moment where he was so full up with Luke that all he saw was gentle brown eyes and the chance for a family, nothing could be wrong when everything was so completely right.

“Nothing,” Real Noah sighed, the corners of his mouth lifting, because it was the truth.  


**Author's Note:**

> And we're done! If you're actually reading this, I just want to thank you for getting through the whole damn fic and not giving up on me. I don't really write long fics (because they don't get finished) and I definitely don't write a lot of "getting together" fic (stick mostly to established relationship) so this was new for me. Really new. Scary as hell new. I just want to hand out a few thank yous - cutebunny43 for your everlasting support and eternal good nature, even when I whined to you for hours about how I couldn't write sex. Also, for demanding MOAR REID, because he fit in just perfectly. aoleander aka Allegra, who drew such beautiful, gorgeous, heartmeltingly amazing artwork for me that I'm literally breathless and who had to deal with me being the worst email correspondent to exist, and of course the beautiful ladies of nukebigbang for making all this wonderful fic possible. Muchas gracias, diolch yn fawr, grazie - or as the Maltese say: grazzi!


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